


Simpler Times

by Haroldosaur



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Gen, Squirrelpaw being a gremlin, Time Travel, just Squirrelpaw getting yeeted back to what is chronologically the beginning of "Fire and Ice", meanwhile Fireheart has no idea what's cracking but he's doing his best, no betas we die like men, not time travel fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 79,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18509839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haroldosaur/pseuds/Haroldosaur
Summary: Squirrelpaw, through worldly machinations unknown, is sent back in time to when her father was a young warrior, when her mother was still an apprentice, and when the dreaded Tigerclaw still stalked the forest.Complications arise.





	1. The one where Squirrelpaw and Fireheart are both very confused

**1**

_…“Brambleclaw?”_

_“Are you sure we wouldn’t destroy the Clan?” he growled._

_“W-what do you mean?”_

_“Of course we wouldn’t!” Squirrelpaw rounded on Brambleclaw in anger and confusion._

_“Not on purpose,” Brambleclaw meowed. “But it’s us, isn’t it – fire and tiger – who want to lead the Clan away from its home and on a long, dangerous journey when we don’t even know where we’re meant to be going?”_

-

As Squirrelpaw padded back to the makeshift camp at Sunningrocks, her mind and heart were heavy. She’d been so excited about the journey and the prophecy, about all of it, in the beginning. And even as she’d experienced loss and hardship, she had still held onto that hope. But now, in spite of her best efforts, she could now only think of Brambleclaw’s words. “ _Are you sure we wouldn’t destroy the Clan?_ ” he has asked.

Her reflex had been denial, of course, because hadn’t they gone on their journey to _save_ the Clans instead of _destroy_ them? But then he’d explained his thoughts, and she’d found that she hadn’t actually had an answer to them. She knew how real the risks of journeys like theirs were – and Feathertail’s loss was something she doubted she’d ever forget. So who was to say that by leading the clans away from their ancestral home, they weren’t leading them to a similar fate?

Part of her knew that it was a ridiculous perspective to have. The Clans _had_ to leave. The twolegs were destroying everything. But at the same time, she knew that there was no way to tell how the Clans would fare on the journey ahead. Maybe they wouldn’t find a new territory, and fall apart squabbling amongst themselves. Maybe they’d never make the journey – maybe hunger, or twolegs, or even hungry twolegs (twolegs didn’t eat cats, did they?) would bring the clans to ruin before they would be able to find a new home.

She didn’t know. And that scared her more than anything.

Dropping her thrush onto the meagre fresh-kill pile, she scanned the camp. Leafpaw was approaching Cinderpelt and Mousefur, probably to talk about medicine cat… things. Brambleclaw almost looked like he was in a daze as he stepped away from the fresh-kill pile and began to wander from one side of Sunningrocks to the other. She stared after him, worried. His misgivings, the idea that they’d lead the Clan to ruin – had he been struggling with that the entire time? If not, then for how long? And how had she not seen it?

Brambleclaw had always been a worrywart. She knew that. Perhaps this was just how he went about life. If that was the case, she couldn’t _stand_ it, and felt a wave of sympathy for him roll over her. Eventually, she turned back around and padded wearily to the closest thing to a den she could find, ignoring the voices of her clanmates as they talked more about the prophecy and their impending doom. She decidedly, suddenly, that she was tired of that. Deciding to lie down and try to get some sleep, she hoped that things would seem less complicated the next morning.

…She should have been so lucky.

When she came to her senses, she was not where she had been a moment ago. She’d awoken in a flat, grassy plain. Behind her was a forest, but in front of her was a field awash with moonlight. She took several cautious steps forward, looking around. She hadn’t seen this place before, and certainly had no idea how she’d gotten there from Sunningrocks. In her sleep.

Just as she was beginning to figure out what was happening, a figure emerged from what seemed like out of nowhere. A cat with a pelt so silver it seemed to almost glow – and her fur was dotted with tiny stars. Her eyes, blue as a cloudless sky, were wide with alarm as she bounded out of the grass.

“Squirrelpaw!” She called. Squirrelpaw recognised the voice. It was impossible.

“Feathertail?” She hissed in alarm. “You’re dead!”

“I know.” Feathertail came to a halt in front of Squirrelpaw. “I- believe me, I know.”

“How are you…” Squirrelpaw trailed off as she scanned her surroundings a final time. “…This is a dream, isn’t it? And you’re being sent by StarClan?” She remembered the first StarClan dream she’d had, when Spottedleaf had shown her where her sister was being held captive. She hadn’t expected to be visited again so soon.

“Yes.” Panted Feathertail. “Yes, it is, and I don’t have much time.”

Instantly, Squirrelpaw was alert, a shudder of anticipation and fear running through her. “What is it?” She asked, craning over Feathertail’s shoulder as if she was going to see danger right behind her. Upon seeing this, Feathertail _mrrowed_ in amusement before shaking her head as if to focus herself.

“Listen, Squirrelpaw.” She mewed, suddenly. Her voice had a strength to it that it had never had in life, and Squirrelpaw found herself compelled to pay attention for once. “There are some phenomena that even StarClan cannot control, and cannot prevent. The twolegs in the forest, they’re one example, but something else is happening as we speak.”

“What?” Squirrelpaw forced herself to stay instead of darting back into the woods and trying to wake up. “Something else-?”

“Yes.” Feathertail nodded. “You ought to be safe, and you ought to return eventually, but there is nothing we can do to prevent it from happening.”

“Prevent _what_?” Squirrelpaw begged. “I- Feathertail, you’re not making any sense!”

The she-cat’s face contorted into an expression of pity, and she hesitated before speaking again. As if what she wanted to say and what she was saying were two different things.

“All I can tell you is this: you cannot change the future.” She meowed. Her words rang, hitting Squirrelpaw’s ears like physical blows. “No matter what action you take, your future will remain as it is when you return.”

“What do you _mean_?” Squirrelpaw tried again. Instead of an answer, the wind around the two cats began to pick up, and Squirrelpaw felt herself be physically pushed backwards by the breeze. She gazed up at Feathertail a final time – the other cat was unaffected by the wind, and stood and watched Squirrelpaw struggle with a pained look on her face.

“Feathertail!” She called a final time, before being pushed back into the undergrowth. Her vision of Feathertail was cut off, and from then, she saw and felt nothing more than darkness and the howling wind.

She awoke with a start, panting heavily. It felt as though she’d been dropped back into her body for a great height, and there was a pain in her chest that forced her to stay where she was and pant instead of get up and find someone to talk to. Was that- that _had_ been a dream. A StarClan dream. She wondered idly if Brambleclaw and the other cats of the prophecy had had dreams as stressful as hers had been. It certainly would explain a lot. And Feathertail- oh, Feathertail! Instead of giving her closure, seeing the silver cat of the tribe’s prophecy again had just re-opened the wound. She bowed her head and stared at the stone beneath her paws as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“ _Feathertail… what were you trying to tell me?_ ” She mused, before rising with a hiss. Her stomach growled in hunger. Blinking away sleep, she padded out of her den and jumped down to the base of Sunningrocks, not giving much thought to her actions. And it was then that she noticed something: there was no other cat there. Sunningrocks was deserted.

She began to look around. Cautiously at first, and then frantically, as panic began to overtake her. None of the clan was there – her father, her mother, Leafpaw, Brambleclaw, they had all seemingly disappeared into thin air. More than that, there was no sign that any cat had been there at all. The dens were empty, and the fresh-kill pile was gone. Squirrelpaw could only gaze in horror. What had happened? She didn’t know, but she felt very small. And very, very alone.

Panic seized her. Barely paying attention to what she was doing, or where her paws were taking her, she wheeled around and fled from Sunningrocks, paying no attention to the forest that looked as though it had miraculously restored itself from the damage inflicted upon it by the twolegs. Her instinct was taking her to the one place that, even now, she associated with safety.

The ThunderClan camp.

-

_This was their vigil – the night when a new warrior guarded the Clan and reflected on his new name and status. Until last night, Fireheart had been known by his apprentice name of Firepaw…_

Between the battle that he had fought in the previous day, and the night-long vigil he had sat through in the biting cold of air with no sun to warm it, Fireheart was so ridden with fatigue than it took moments longer than it normally would have to pick up on the sounds that were quickly drawing closer. Ears pricked, he straightened himself up, focusing on the rustling sounds indicating that something was heading directly for their camp.

He wondered for a moment if he was just being overly-suspicious – with only him and Greystripe, his best friend and ThunderClan’s other new warrior, on guard, he had been straining to detect anything out of the ordinary for most of the night. Perhaps he was being paranoid, and had simply heard a piece of prey straying too close to the camp. However, as the noises came closer, his suspicions were confirmed. Whatever was moving towards them, it sounded too big to be prey – it was probably a cat, even if it sounded as though there was only one.

Glancing at Greystripe, he saw that his friend was already alert as well, claws unsheathed and hackles raised as he stared at the camp entrance. Behind him, Fireheart could just make out the shapes of his clanmates in their dens. One or two were moving, but most were still asleep. He felt a rush of determined energy. “ _I will protect my clanmates_ ”, he promised to himself before turning his attention back to whatever was coming from the forest.

The leaves rustled a final time, and then bursting through the entrance to the camp came a small ginger she-cat, who stumbled to a halt as she entered the camp and stared around with wild green eyes. Not willing to waste a moment, Fireheart leapt through the air and onto the intruder, trying to pin her down – but whoever she was, she wry and strong despite her size, and Fireheart soon found himself kicked away as she fought back with an indignant shriek. As his back slammed against the ground, he heard Greystripe yowl in alarm, and just had time to wonder if it was against the warrior code to call for help while on vigil before he was pinned to the ground by the snarling she-cat.

“Back off!” She hissed, eyes burning with a fury that made him pause. “I don’t know who you think you are, sneaking around in… ThunderClan… territory…” she trailed off at the end of her sentence. Fireheart couldn’t understand why, but he wasn’t going to question his enemy losing their motivation mid-fight. He was about to throw her off when she choked out:

“Father?”


	2. The one where Squirrelpaw starts a fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: hmm, well I think I ought to space these chapters out a bit because I don't have much of a backlog-
> 
> Also me: YEET *throws this chapter online mere hours after the first one*

**2**

Squirrelpaw stared at her father for several long seconds, drinking in the sight of him. It was definitely him – she would recognise him anywhere – but he looked different. Too different. He looked _younger_ , with a face less weathered by time than the one she knew. As he overcame his own shock and began to writhe out from under her grasp, she noticed that he didn’t have the long scar on his flank that he’d had for as long as she could remember. Still confused and trying to understand what was happening, she didn’t try to stop him as he scrambled back to his feet and faced her with his back arched and claws unsheathed. The sight of him confirmed something else she’d suspected – he was _smaller_ than normal, as well.

“I- I don’t understand!” She gasped. “Why do you look so young? And have you shrunk-?”

“Intruder!” Another voice called. Turning her head, Squirrelpaw saw Greystripe, of all cats, stalking towards her and looking as though he was about to attack. Hadn’t he been taken by twolegs just the previous day?

“Greystripe…!” The name fell from her mouth out of shock. Greystripe backed off in surprise, before leaning back forward with narrow eyes. He too looked different, she dimly realised, still a large cat but lacking the bulk she’d known him with.

“How do you know my name?” He meowed fiercely.

Before Squirrelpaw could reply, she noticed movement everywhere. As she watched, cats slid out of the dens scattered around camp and quickly scampered to support Greystripe and her father once they noticed her. A cat who looked like Mousefur and another she didn’t recognise at all ran behind her and blocked the entrance to the camp.

She, however, was barely focused on her immediate surroundings, and was instead trying to figure out what was happening. Her father didn’t recognise her, and looked different to how she’d ever known him. Greystripe was back, and he didn’t appear to recognise her either. Feathertail had said something about the future, and that she would probably return… Squirrelpaw remembered: she’d said something about how she couldn’t _change_ the future.

Squirrelpaw was so busy piecing everything together in her head that it wasn’t until her jaw made painful contact with the ground did she register that she’d been tackled by some cat. She hissed up at them, only to stop when she recognised who it was: it was Dustpelt! But her mentor was looking at her with nothing but disdain, and as she twisted under him, he growled threateningly. Not wanting to risk getting half her fur clawed off, she stopped moving. This time, she didn’t bother to say his name.

What was happening? Why was no-one recognising her? An unexpected jolt of sadness washed over her – even now, when she was _home_ , back in the actual camp, she wasn’t really home. A stranger in her own clan.

“Dustpaw!”

Dust- paw? Looked up, and Squirrelpaw saw a familiar cat approaching her – a broad-shouldered tabby tom, with deep amber eyes. This time, she couldn’t stop herself.

“Brambleclaw!” She gasped, because _finally_ , someone she knew for sure, and he’d recognise her, surely, _surely_ -

The tom stopped and stared down at her in an expression that was so unlike Brambleclaw that Squirrelpaw almost couldn’t process it. Then, he scoffed at her. Like she was a piece of prey too small for his liking.

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” His voice was a low rumble, and it by itself was enough to make her shudder. No. Whoever this was, this was not Brambleclaw, and that realisation was enough to make her even _more_ homesick.

Not-Brambleclaw rose and turned to Greystripe. “Good thing you sounded the alarm.” He grunted, before scowling in her father’s direction. “Why didn’t you?”

Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but think that that was no way to treat a clan leader – but rather than defend himself, her father just shrunk in on himself a little. The sight was a surreal one, and she couldn’t help but gape at it. What _was_ happening?

“I- I thought we weren’t allowed to speak during our vigil.” He mewed. He sounded uncertain, and young. Nothing like the leader she knew him to be.

“Come on, Fire _heart_.” Dustpelt, or Dust _paw_ , placed emphasis on the last half of her father’s name as though it was a dirty word, or something to be ashamed of. Everything, she mused to herself, was getting more and more confusing. “Didn’t you know,” Dustpelt continued, “that warriors on vigil are allowed to speak if they’re raising the alarm?”

Squirrelpaw had to stifle a small part of her that wanted to mock her father further – something told her that it would be an unwise decision to make when surrounded by cats that apparently didn’t know her. The good news was that, even with her head being pressed into the ground, she was still able to think about everything that had happened to her, and was working on piecing it together. Though it seemed unlikely, she had an idea. She had to have-

“Bluestar!” Another cat called. The crowd parted to reveal the cat that served, in Squirrelpaw’s mind, as the final piece of evidence to confirm her theory. This was the leader of ThunderClan that she had heard about, the one that had led the clan _before_ her father. That meant that somehow, she had to have travelled into the past. It was the only explanation that made sense. Why her mentor still had his apprentice name, and why her father wasn’t leader. It also, she realised with a chill, meant that the cat who had looked like Brambleclaw was probably _Tigerstar_ – or rather, she thought as she spared him another glance, this would have been when he was still Tigerclaw, the supposedly loyal ThunderClan warrior.

After much cajoling from her, her father had once spent several evening explaining to her who Tigerstar was and what he had done. She’d paid rapt attention to the story at the time, drinking it all in, wide-eyed as she’d heard about the almost unspeakable evil that her father had named “Tigerstar”. Now, she pushed herself to remember those stories – but her attempts to remember was cut short by Bluestar stepping closer to her and staring down at her imperiously. She felt her mentor clamber off her, and she unsteadily rose to her feet to stare into the cold blue eyes of ThunderClan’s old leader.

“Who are you?” Bluestar asked with a voice as cold as the mountains, “And why have you come to our camp?”

-

Fireheart stared at the she-cat as she faced down Bluestar. The she-cat who had called him “father”, of all things! He tried to settle his nerves, giving his paw a lick as he forced the fur on the back of his neck to lie back down flat. She obviously had him confused for some other cat – he’d never had kits before in his life! And even if he had, she was far too old to be his kit. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and continued to sit back as he observed her interactions with Bluestar.

First, she bowed her head in acquiescence, paying respect to Bluestar as a leader, but then she rose and stood as tall as she was able, which, admittedly, still left her smaller than most of the surrounding warriors. Her eyes flashed with defiance, but she remained controlled as she spoke:

“You’re Bluestar?”

Given how Bluestar’s ear twitched, Fireheart could tell she was surprised, but the ThunderClan leader gave no other sign of it as she continued to eye the newcomer.

“I am.” She confirmed.

The she-cat opened her mouth soundlessly at first, obviously trying to decide what to say, before mewing: “This is going to sound strange.”

The cats around Bluestar stiffened and muttered in suspicion, but Bluestar herself remained stoic as she kept her gaze firmly on the she-cat.

“Go on.” She encouraged.

“Alright.” The she-cat seemed to look at every member of the clan – lingering on him, which made Fireheart uneasy – before turning back to Bluestar. “I think that I’ve been sent here from- from the future.” She revealed. “From forwards in time.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Spat Dustpaw. The she-cat turned to face him as he scowled at her. “That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s true!” The she-cat protested, ears flattening on her head as the surrounding cats glowered at her. “I…” She turned to Dustpaw. “You’re my mentor! You’re Dustpelt, and you’re my mentor, and you always got annoyed at me because I’d never listen to you. And-” She turned away from Dustpaw, who was staring at her with a shocked expression on his face, and faced him. Her eyes were wide, pleading, desperate. “And you’re… my father.” She said, again, her gaze trailing downward from him to the floor as she trailed off.

Uneasiness rooted Fireheart’s paws to the ground. Around him, he heard the mutterings of other cats, and felt their gazes flit from Dustpaw to him and the she-cat. Greystripe had an odd expression on his face, like he couldn’t decide what to think, and Bluestar padded forwards, wearily looking at both the she-cat and Fireheart. To see if they looked like kin? He stared at the she-cat. Her fur was darker than his, but it was still ginger. And both of them had lithe, lean bodies. However, that was no solid evidence for them actually being related-

“A kittypet’s kit?” Darkstripe sneered. Fireheart shot him an angry glance – the tom had never hesitated to openly deride Fireheart, and now he was padding forwards and speaking in a voice that conveyed both mockery and disgust. “You’re telling me he survived long enough to have a kit?”

Before Fireheart could say anything, the she-cat turned and hissed at Darkstripe.

“Two kits!” She meowed ferociously. “My sister and me both!”

“Is that what our clan comes to?” Darkstripe growled, lowering his head to stare the she-cat down. She didn’t flinch. In fact, she stepped forward herself. The air was suddenly brimming with hostility.

“You mangy crowfood-eater!” She snarled. “Insult my family again-”

“Your _family_ -” Darkstripe said the word as though it was a curse- “hardly belongs in the clan!”

Yowling, the she-cat leapt forward and tackled Darkstripe to the ground, clawing at him and sending his fur flying through the morning air. Immediately, Greystripe and Tigerclaw both lunged at her, knocking her to the ground – Tigerclaw held her down as Greystripe dragged Darkstripe to safety.

“That’s enough!” Bluestar ordered. The she-cat stopped writhing under Tigerclaw, and Greystripe paused where he was. None of the other gathered cats had moved.

“Tigerclaw.” Bluestar meowed firmly. “Let her go.”

“Bluestar-” Tigerclaw began, but Bluestar cut him off.

“If she attacks another of my warriors again, I will deal with her personally.” Bluestar promised, a hard edge to her voice. “That being said, Darkstripe provoked her. Would you not defend your family if it was being criticized in the same way?”

Tigerclaw looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead of saying it, glowered and stepped away from the she-cat. She stood up, fur ruffled, and continued to glare at Darkstripe like she hoped that her stare alone would rip him to shreds.

“What is your name?” It wasn’t a question so much as it was an order. The she-cat offered Darkstripe a final glower before lowering her gaze, refusing to meet Bluestar’s eyes – looking for all the world like a kit that was about to be scolded by her parent.

“Squirrelpaw.” She eventually muttered.

“Squirrelpaw.” Repeated Bluestar. Fireheart let the word – the _name_ – wash over him. If this cat really was his kin… he stopped his thoughts in their tracks. Why was he even considering the possibility? Bluestar, for her part, eyed Squirrelpaw for a moment longer, before abruptly turning her back on her and beginning to stalk away.

“Follow me to my den.” She ordered, flicking her tail over her shoulder. “We can discuss your story in greater detail there.” She tilted her head in Tigerclaw’s direction. “Come with me, Tigerclaw. Longtail – fetch Yellowfang. I want her present as well.”

“No need to fetch me, Bluestar, I’m right here.” The ThunderClan medicine cat came forward. “I saw everything.”

Still frowning, Tigerclaw nodded and padded after Bluestar. As she passed him, Bluestar turned to face Fireheart. Her face softened as she looked at him.

“If what this cat says is true…” Bluestar hesitated, then nodded in resolution, “you ought to join us as well.”

Suddenly full of a nervous energy, Fireheart leapt up and had to hold himself back from bounding ahead of Bluestar, settling for trailing after her. He noticed, as their group began to walk up to the leader’s den, that Squirrelpaw was staring openly at him. He tried to not return her gaze. There was still so much that he was so confused about.

To think, the previous day and night, his only worries had been ShadowClan, and becoming a warrior! Now the world seemed that much larger and that much less certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate reading:
> 
> Darkstripe: "The kittypet FUCKS?!?"  
> Squirrelpaw: "He fucks TWOFOLD"


	3. The one where Fireheart's a dad (boogie-woogie-woogie)

**3**

Squirrelpaw followed Bluestar through the curtain of lichen that she, by now, only vaguely remembered. Between her journeying, and the fact that ThunderClan had relocated to Sunningrocks by the time she and Brambleclaw had returned, it was surreal to see the ThunderClan camp in full use again. Another pang of homesickness flew through her.

Bluestar sat down in the nest at the back of the den. _Her_ nest. It was surreal, for Squirrelpaw, to see a cat other than her father recline in it. Tigerstar- Tiger _claw_ , she reminded herself, sat to Bluestar’s side. After a moment’s hesitation, her father – Fireheart – laid himself down on Bluestar’s other side, a little further away than Tigerclaw. It was surreal, she mused dimly, to see her father so unsure of himself. For as long as she’d known him, he’d always been charismatic and confident in his decisions, even if he still thought them through. But this? This was borderline timidity. She couldn’t help but wonder if the elders had been exaggerating whenever they’d told her stories about her father’s younger years. It seemed unlikely that the submissive young warrior in front of her would ever go behind his leader’s back! Then again; she _had_ said that he was her father. He was probably just getting over the surprise of that.

Finally, another cat settled to Fireheart’s side. Though she had never met the cat, she had heard Bluestar mention a “Yellowfang”, and another cat that she’d heard stories about as a kit was ThunderClan’s old medicine cat, who had been loving and supportive to her father underneath a prickly layer of gruffness and scars. Part of her felt a thrill at the prospect of meeting cats who had played such a large part in her clan’s history, though there was also part of her that felt underwhelmed. Yellowfang was scraggly and scratched-up and decidedly unassuming, when she’d been expecting a cat who had been a bit more… impressive. Perhaps, she thought, her father had forgotten himself in the stories and exaggerated by mistake.

“So, Squirrelpaw.” Bluestar meowed. Squirrelpaw decided that she liked the old leader’s voice: it was stern and soothing all at once, like a mother. The thought reminded her of her own mother, Sandstorm, and she realised that she hadn’t even seen the past version of her mother in camp. Would she have even been called “Sandstorm” during this point in time? Squirrelpaw didn’t know. It wasn’t like she’d been there herself.

“Yes.” She dragged herself back to the reality of her situation before she could lose herself to her thoughts. Then, she added: “What do you want to know?”

“You say you’re the daughter of one of my warriors, come to us from the future.” Bluestar summarised. It certainly _sounded_ ridiculous out loud. “You will have to forgive my scepticism – I would like to believe you, but I don’t see how that can be possible.”

“StarClan _does_ work in ways we don’t quote understand.” Mewed Yellowfang. Her voice was deep, and raspy, like she had a stone stuck in her throat. “Just because we’ve never seen something before doesn’t mean it isn’t possible.” Her voice took on a more teasing tone as she continued. “Besides, if how she stood up to Darkstripe was any indication, she’s definitely as stubborn as her father!”

“Not to mention,” Bluestar meowed with glimmering eyes, “as willing to prove herself to those who deride her as a kittypet as he was when he first joined the clan.”

Fireheart looked embarrassed, and leant down to distractedly lick at his paws. Squirrelpaw felt pride at the comparison.

“You make good points, Yellowfang.” Bluestar continued, acknowledging the older cat with a dip of her head.

Tigerclaw stepped forward, looming over Squirrelpaw threateningly. Whilst part of her still couldn’t take the broad-shouldered tom seriously, looking at him and only seeing Brambleclaw, she was aware enough of his reputation as a warrior, and leant back as he eyed her in suspicion. Then, he sniffed.

“It’s a little different, but she does have ThunderClan scent.” His voice was practically a growl, even though he showed no other signs of anger. Squirrelpaw was reminded of the noises that Sharptooth’s footsteps had made whenever he had attacked the tribe – the comparison did nothing to ease her nerves.

“If her fighting skill indicates, she’s also been trained as a warrior.” Yellowfang pointed out as Tigerclaw slunk back to his position beside Bluestar. “Somehow I doubt that any rogue would know how to fight as well as her.”

“You can’t say for sure.” Tigerclaw growled. “We saw her fight for a few moments only. It’s be foolish to try and discern her skill from such a small glimpse.”

“And _you_ haven’t lived as long as me.” Yellowfang retorted, turning up her nose as Tigerclaw in disdain. Squirrelpaw saw a look of bemusement cross Bluestar’s face as the two began to talk across her. “When you’ve seen as many fights as I have, you learn to distinguish a lot very quickly.”

“Are you questioning my experience?” Was Tigerclaw’s response.

“Not _questioning_ it, no.” Yellowfang meowed. “I’m just saying that I have more.”

“Enough.” Bluestar mewed. Tigerclaw turned away with a surly expression; Yellowfang seemed almost pleased with herself.

Squirrelpaw decided that she liked her.

“Squirrelpaw,” Bluestar continued, “why have you come to us from the future? Were you sent by StarClan?”

“No.” Squirrelpaw admitted, remember her dream. “I… this wasn’t StarClan’s doing. I had a dream before I came back, where I was visited by a StarClan cat, but I… she told me that there were some things that were beyond StarClan’s control.”

Tigerclaw snorted. “Don’t tell me that cats getting flung back in time is some kind of natural occurrence?”

“It seems very unlikely.” Agreed Bluestar, before turning back to Yellowfang. “Do you think it’s possible? For something like this to not just happen, but happen outside of the will of StarClan?”

Yellowfang grunted. “I don’t know.” She confessed, readily. “But we can’t rule anything out. I presume we’re all in agreement that her being Fireheart’s kit from the future is at least possible, even if we can’t say for sure?”

Bluestar fixed her penetrating gaze on Squirrelpaw again, before nodding. Tigerclaw made a noise in the back of his throat, but said nothing. Fireheart didn’t meet anybody’s eyes. Upon noting these reactions, Yellowfang rolled her eyes and struggled to her feet.

“Well, that particular matter’s settled.” She remarked. “I don’t suppose you’ll need me for anything else, Bluestar? From the looks of it, I’m going to need to examine Darkstripe.” As she glanced over Squirrelpaw, her tone of voice seemed to get lighter. And also more conspiratorial. “Our little visitor certainly didn’t let him off unscathed.”

Bluestar remained solemn. “If StarClan are not involved, then yes, it is best you see to Darkstripe.” She said. “Unless there is any more advice you want to share – I am open to it. This is a… an unfamiliar situation.” Squirrelpaw was impressed by her willingness to admit that she didn’t have all the answers. On her journey to the sun-drown place and back, she’d watched Brambleclaw mature into a leader, and found that she’d always appreciate it when he had been honest to the rest of them. It had made him feel more connected to the group – less like an ethereal, untouchable leader, and more like the cat in charge. On later reflection, her father had been much the same way – and she couldn’t help but wonder if _he_ had picked up the trait from the leader that sat in front of her now.

“Believe me, Bluestar, this is new territory for all of us.” Yellowfang rasped, pausing by the den’s entrance and turning back around to face the other cats. “Certainly, when I agreed to become your clan’s medicine cat, this isn’t what I was expecting!”

Squirrelpaw stifled a _mrrow_ of laughter.

“Still.” Yellowfang shook herself briskly. “I don’t think I could have any better ideas than you on the matter. You treated me with respect when I was an enemy warrior – I don’t think you’ll do any less for a cat that has an actual connection to your clan, no matter how strange that connection may be.”

“Thank you, Yellowfang.” Bluestar purred. “That will be all.”

Slipping through the overhang, Yellowfang disappeared without saying anything else, leaving Squirrelpaw with the other three cats.

-

The longer Fireheart stared at Squirrelpaw, the more he found himself struggling to deny the idea that she was his kit. The feeling of certainty had been small at first, springing to life when he’d first seen Squirrelpaw standing tall surrounded by ThunderClan warriors. But despite his resistance, his belief that it was impossible, that feeling had only grown since. He could not find a logical explanation that would truly satisfy him, though their pelts were a similar colour and their bodies were built the same and they had the same eyes. But there was a certainty in his stomach, in his gut, that there was something connecting the two of them.

“Fireheart.” Bluestar’s voice cut through the silence. “What are your thoughts?”

He looked up at Bluestar – then at Tigerclaw, who was eying him with curiosity, and then at Squirrelpaw, who was just staring at him unashamedly. The again, she _had_ said that he had looked different.

“I… I believe her.” He mewed. He wondered for half a second whether or not admitting it had been the best thing to do, but then Squirrelpaw began to purr, and his doubts were laid to rest.

Bluestar nodded. “I think I do too.” She admitted, over Squirrelpaw’s purring. “And in any case, I have no reason to suspect that she’s a danger to any member of our clan.”

“Aside from Darkstripe.” Fireheart ventured, before he could properly think his words through. Bluestar exhaled.

“Yes, aside from Darkstripe.” She mewed. “And on that, I expect you to make sure she doesn’t get into any more fights. I won’t have her attacking cats, no matter what the provocation may be.”

“Me?” Fireheart questioned. “Bluestar, are you sure?”

Bluestar nodded. “Not straight away, of course – you have just held your warrior vigil, and need to rest. If she is your kit, Fireheart…” his leader’s eyes glazed over, as though she was thinking of something else. Fireheart waited a moment for her to keep talking. “The time that you spend with your kits is always precious.” Bluestar eventually meowed. “Even if the circumstances are unorthodox. You should get to know your daughter.”

Fireheart felt a warmth in his belly at the sound of his leader’s compassionate words. “Of course, Bluestar.”

She nodded to him. “Go.” She said. “I will discuss the matter with Tigerclaw a little further.”

The mention of Tigerclaw’s name was like a shock of cold water, waking him up, and with a start, Fireheart remembered that he had been planning to talk to Bluestar, and tell her his suspicions about Tigerclaw – how he suspected that the deputy had murdered Redtail, and had purposefully spread rumours about Ravenpaw to the rest of the clan. He forced himself to push the worries aside. He didn’t suspect that Tigerclaw had anything planned for that day specifically; and in any case, he was bound to be as taken by surprise as Squirrelpaw’s arrival as Fireheart himself was.

Squirrelpaw headbutted his flank, and Fireheart almost toppled over where he sat. He turned to look at her incredulously.

“Sorry, sorry.” She muttered, before brightening up again. “But come on! I want to see the camp!”

“Won’t you already know what it looks like?” He asked as he clambered to his paws.

“Maybe, but I’m sure a lot has changed between now and my time!” She pointed out, almost bouncing where she stood by the lichen entrance to the den.

“I need to rest after my vigil…” He pointed out, not untruthfully. As much as he wanted to do what Bluestar had said, and get to know his daughter better, he felt tired enough to sleep for a moon.

Squirrelpaw’s shoulders slumped, and Fireheart immediately felt guilty.

“Tell you what,” he mewed, “I can leave you with someone while I sleep, and then once I wake up we can get to know each other better.” He flicked her flank with his tail as he walked up to her. “Does that sound alright?”

She purred again.

“Sounds great.” She confirmed, before bounding out from the lichen and into the main camp. Fireheart, after dipping his head to Bluestar, followed her out. The sun was poking over the horizon, commemorating the official end of his vigil, which filled him with relief. The idea of spending any longer watching over the camp in the dark and the cold was enough to fill him with revulsion, and he shuddered at the thought. As he stepped into the camp, the sun’s rays lit up his pelt, illuminating it bright orange and reminding him of the day when he’d been given his name as an apprentice; when Bluestar had named him “Firepaw” in honour of that pelt. Looking by his side, he was surprised to see that a similar thing had happened to Squirrelpaw. Though not as bright as his, her fur as well seemed to have been lit up by the rays of the sun. As he looked at his kin who shared so much with him, after moons of feeling like a stranger and an outcast in the clan – because of his kittypet roots – he doubted that the warmth flowing through him was due to the sun alone.

“So,” Squirrelpaw’s voice was full of wonder, “this is what the ThunderClan camp used to look like.”

Fireheart shot her a curious look. “It can’t have changed that much, can it?”

Squirrelpaw shrugged. “I can’t remember the details, but I remember hearing something about changes. And it’s definitely different than I remember.” There was something in her voice that sounded nostalgic, and Fireheart couldn’t help but wonder why his kit would feel such a way over the ThunderClan camp – surely she would still be living in it?

As they padded towards the warriors’ den, they were met by Whitestorm, who was gazing at the two of them with amusement apparent in his golden eyes.

“It looks as though you finally have kin in the clans, young Fireheart.” He meowed. From another cat, the words may have been mockery, but Whitestorm’s voice was genuine and Fireheart dipped his head to the elder warrior in both deference and acknowledgement.

“Though we aren’t sure how it happened, we think that Squirrelpaw is who she says she is.” Fireheart meowed. “My kit from the future.”

“Remarkable.” Whitestorm’s voice was a murmur. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He peered at Squirrelpaw, who responded to his curiosity by leaning forward and almost hitting his nose with her own. He pulled away, blinking.

“Squirrelpaw!” Fireheart admonished before he could think about it. Whitestorm laughed.

“It’s good to see that you’re already stepping up as a father figure.” He remarked.

Fireheart felt his fur burn in embarrassment, but upon noticing that Whitestorm didn’t mean it in a bad way – and that Squirrelpaw seemed to have no problem with it – he forced himself to relax. He had heard the queens of the clan mention something about “parental instincts” once or twice – perhaps it was just those.

Whitestorm shook himself. “I’ll leave you to your rest.” He said. “I should see what work needs to be done around the camp.” Without another word, he bounded away and began to talk to some of the other warriors.

It was at that point that Fireheart noticed the stares that almost every cat in the camp seemed to be directing at Squirrelpaw. He couldn’t say he blamed them – word had to be spreading about her and the fact that she was his kin, and even if it were not the case, a new cat in the camp would be enough to get any cat staring.

Unfortunately, the first cat to come sauntering up to the pair before Fireheart could enter the warriors’ den was Longtail, whose wore a smug expression (marred only by the torn ear Fireheart had given him what felt like so many moons ago) as he approached the two cats.

“So, Fireheart has kin from the future?” He meowed, before hissing in laughter. “A likely story.” He turned to address Squirrelpaw directly – who, Fireheart noticed, was staring at Longtail in undisguised surprise. “How did this kittypet convince you to pretend-”

“Longtail!” Squirrelpaw interrupted with a gasp. “You can _see_?”

“What?” exclaimed Fireheart. This hadn’t been the reaction he had been expecting at all, and it had clearly stunned Longtail as well – he’d stopped talking, and looked like he wasn’t sure whether to claw Squirrelpaw or flee in the opposite direction from her.

“What do you mean, I can see?” He demanded. “Can I- can I _not_ see, where you’re from?” He had obviously forgotten his accusations of the story being a lie. Squirrelpaw’s ears flattened on the top of her head, and she ducked away from Longtail.

“Oops, sorry.” She mewed timidly. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

Seizing his chance, Fireheart ducked into the warriors’ den and beckoned Squirrelpaw in after him with a flick of his tail. She followed after a moment’s awkward hesitation. Fireheart waited in anticipation, but Longtail didn’t follow them. Probably too surprised at what Squirrelpaw had said.

“Can he actually not see in your time?” He asked, hesitantly. After a moment’s hesitation, she shook her head.

“He’s blind.” She confirmed in a low voice.

Fireheart wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, there was no love lost between him and Longtail, and their relationship hadn’t much improved from when he’d first arrived in the camp – when the two had fought, and Longtail had ripped Fireheart’s collar off, and Fireheart had torn Longtail’s ear. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the warrior. To be blinded was a fate that Fireheart wouldn’t wish on any cat.

He found himself yawning, suddenly, and remembered in a flash why they had gone to the warrior’s den in the first place.

“Fireheart?”

Glancing around, he caught sight of his clanmate Sandpaw glaring up at him from where she was lying on a bed of moss.

“Sandpaw?” He asked. Sandpaw rose with a grumble.

“What are you doing here?” She meowed. There was a dark edge to her voice. “This is the apprentice’s den. You’re a _warrior_ now.”

Fireheart flinched at her harshness. It was evident that Sandpaw was envious of his and Greystripe’s status as warriors, and considering that she had been an apprentice longer than either of them, he couldn’t say that he blamed her. Then, he realised what he had done. Tired and not thinking, he had waltzed right into the apprentices’ den instead of the warriors’ den by mistake.

“Ah-! Sorry, Sandpaw.” He muttered, backing towards the entrance. “I didn’t think.”

“Clearly.” Sandpaw scoffed.

Squirrelpaw stepped forward with wide eyes. “Sand _paw_?” She gasped.

Fireheart spared her a curious look. “Do you know her?”

Squirrelpaw didn’t react for a moment – and then nodded. “Yes.” She mewed. “You… you could say that.”

“Can…” Fireheart trailed off. The fatigue from his vigil had begun to hit him in full force. “Can I leave you with her?” He’d seen Sandpaw be nice, but she’d always been prickly to him, and the idea of her treating any kit of his with respect seemed unlikely. But surprisingly enough, Squirrelpaw nodded.

“Sure!” She said, sounding enthusiastic. “That sounds fantastic!”

“Hold on.” Sandpaw said, padding towards Fireheart and Squirrelpaw warily. “Who is this cat, and why is she in our camp?”

Fireheart found himself momentarily lost for words. It would do no good, he reasoned, to admit the truth to Sandpaw outright – she would never accept it. Unfortunately, Squirrelpaw seemed to have no such qualms.

“I’m Fireheart’s daughter, sent back in time from the future!” She trilled, sounding delighted to share the news. Sandpaw reared back in shock before her face contorted into a sneer.

“Some cat was actually mouse-brained enough to have kits with _him_?” She taunted. Her voice wobbled, however, and Fireheart suspected that the taunt was more to return her to her comfort zone than to insult him, even if it did still sting. Rather than leap to her father’s defence, however, Squirrelpaw seemed to take it in her stride.

“Some cat certainly was.” She meowed in satisfaction. Sandpaw peered past Squirrelpaw to scowl at Fireheart.

“You want to leave her with me?” She asked, ignoring the other apprentice. “What, do you think that you get to tell me what to do just because you’re a warrior now?”

“No, it’s because I spent the whole of last night sitting vigil and need to sleep.” Fireheart snapped, fatigue leaving him short-tempered. “And the day before that I was busy driving out ShadowClan’s leader.” Realising that getting angry with Sandpaw would do him no favours, he forced himself to calm down before he spoke next. “Please, Sandpaw. I haven’t asked you for anything before and I’ll do my best to never ask you for anything again.”

Sandpaw remained silent for several moments.

“Fine.” She eventually hissed. “But only until you wake up.”

“Thank you.” Fireheart gasped in relief. “Just until I wake up.” He turned to Squirrelpaw. “Squirrelpaw, I- um- behave for Sandpaw. Okay?”

“Okay, father, I will.” She said in a light voice. Behind her, Sandpaw winced. Fireheart couldn’t blame her – hearing himself referred to as “father” was strange to him as well. But, he mused as he finally squeezed out of the apprentices’ den and headed to the warriors’ den where he now was supposed to sleep, he could worry about all of it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sandstorm [waking up in a cold sweat some time later]: "-I'M THE MOUSE-BRAINED CAT"


	4. The one where Squirrelpaw has some meaningful conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been replying to every single comment so far! I always get so excited when I see them :P

**4**

After watching her father leave, Squirrelpaw turned to the younger version of her mother, feeling curious. Her mother had mentioned, albeit with shame, that she had neither liked her father nor treated him well while both of them had been apprentices. She had never taken the story totally seriously – it had been impossible to imagine – but from her perspective at that moment, it looked as though her mother had been telling the truth all along. Which was surreal to see, given how in her time the two cats obviously held a lot of affection for one another.

She had been tempted to reveal her parentage straight away, for the sake of confusing and embarrassing Sandpaw, but she had held back out of fear. What if she was at risk of changing the past in a meaningful way? But before she had been able to sink into that mindset, she had remembered what Feathertail had told her in her dream: she would not be able to change the future. With that piece of information in mind, she fully intended to reveal the identity of her mother at some point. But, she had reasoned, it would be more entertaining to pick just the right moment to do so.

Sandpaw, she realised, still didn’t look happy.

“So.” She mewed. “Are you really Fireheart’s kit, or is this just some kind of joke?”

“Longtail said something similar.” Squirrelpaw pointed out. “And no, it isn’t a joke. I really am from the future.”

Sandpaw didn’t look convinced. Squirrelpaw sighed.

“If you have a problem, take it up with Bluestar.” She emphasised. “But she and Tigerclaw and Yellowfang agree that I can stay here for now.”

“It’s not that you’re here,” Sandpaw objected, “it’s that you’re his kit.” She padded around Squirrelpaw, inhaling her scent. Her tail swished from side to side.

“Do you hate him that much?” Squirrelpaw asked, suddenly feeling uneasy. Sandpaw hissed.

“I don’t _hate_ him.” She said, to Squirrelpaw’s surprise. “But that doesn’t mean I like him. And if you are his kit, it’s proof that he stayed part of our clan that long.” There was conflict in her eyes as she turned to face Squirrelpaw. “I supposed there was a part of me that always thought he’d give up and leave eventually. That he was just some dumb kittypet playing around in the forest, without really knowing what he was doing and how important our way of life was to us. But now he’s a warrior, and now you’re here…” She trailed off.

“It’s his way of life too.” Squirrelpaw meowed. She wasn’t sure what else to say. The strangeness of the situation threatened to overwhelm her.

Sandpaw fixed her with an inscrutable look.

“Yes,” she mewed after a time, “I suppose it is.” She shook herself before saying, in a voice too brisk to be wholly genuine: “Well, what am I supposed to do with you now?”

“I wanted to see around the camp.” Squirrelpaw answered, playing along. “I can already tell there are differences between the way it is in my time and the way it is now.” _Mostly because in my time, it’s abandoned_ , she added mentally.

Sandpaw nodded. “Okay.” She accepted, evading Squirrelpaw as she headed for the entrance to the den. Squirrelpaw watched her leave, suddenly feeling uneasy as she began to think through her circumstances. Whilst she knew the future versions of these cats, and they knew her, here she was a stranger to them. And, she considered as she slid out of the den behind Sandpaw, she didn’t necessarily know these cats either.

As if to make matters more complicated, the moment Squirrelpaw left the den, she was approached by a large number of cats, peering curiously at her and asking questions that blended together on a cacophony of meows. It was a stark contrast to how she and Brambleclaw had returned to the clan after their journey – they’d been met, by many cats, with either purposeful ignorance or outright hostility. Here, though there were cats like Longtail, and that other one that Squirrelpaw had already fought (she didn’t know the dark tom’s name), most cats simply seemed curious.

“Who’s this supposed to be?” Asked a cat who looked and sounded a lot like Mousefur.

“Are you really Fireheart’s kit from the future?” A small cat asked excitedly.

“What happens later in time?” The meow came from out of Squirrelpaw’s field of vision, and she turned to see that cats were coming out of the elder’s den to greet her. She didn’t recognize any of them until she caught sight of Dappletail’s familiar pelt.

In the midst of all of this, Sandpaw stood and watched Squirrelpaw with an unimpressed expression that Squirrelpaw was inadvertently very familiar with.

After trying to step away from the crowd and accidentally backing into the wall of the apprentice’s den, Squirrelpaw decided to cut her losses, and began to answer the questions hurled her way as best she could.

“Yes, I actually am Fireheart’s kit from the future.” She explained as she dug through the mass of cats swarming her. “No, I don’t know how it happened either. My name’s Squirrelpaw – nice to meet you too.”

The questions kept coming – some, such as “how old are you?” were more innocent, but others like “how can we know you are who you say you are?” gave her more pause. It looked as though her first impressions had been incomplete. The mistrust was there after all.

Sighing, she raised her voice to respond:

“Okay. Okay!” She meowed loudly, and the clamouring died down. She looked over the past versions of her clanmates, and tried to not be unnerved by how many she didn’t recognise. “First of all-”

“First of all,” a voice cut through what she was trying to say, “I need cats on patrol.”

Every head turned to see Tigerclaw stalking towards them, his business with Bluestar presumably finished. There was an unhappy mutter at his words, but one glance from the strict tabby silenced them with remarkable efficiency.

Squirrelpaw watched him with morbid curiosity. He bore a disturbing resemblance to Brambleclaw – not only physically, although the two cats looked to be carbon copies of one another in her mind, but the way he carried himself and gave orders was very similar to his son. Of course, Brambleclaw had never possessed the self-confidence that the cat in front of her did now – at the beginning of their journey, especially, he had hardly been a leader at all, and when he had been, it had just felt like having a third parent to nag at her. But as time had gone on, she had watched her friend slip into the role of leader as their group came to turn to him more and more for the final word whenever a decision had to be made. And though Brambleclaw would often still hesitate before giving any orders, he had become far more confident that those orders would be carried out. Looking at Tigerclaw, Squirrelpaw reckoned, was like looking at an older and more sinister Brambleclaw, and it bothered her that the resemblance reassured her almost as much as it did disturb her.

“Runningwind, Longtail, I want you to go hunting. Take Dustpaw with you. He’ll need the training.” He snapped. The cats in question slipped away from the cluster and went to follow his orders. Squirrelpaw tried to catch a glimpse of her mentor-to-be, but didn’t see much of him before he vanished through the camp entrance.

“Whitestorm!” He continued. The big white tom padded over to him from the other side of the camp.

“Yes, Tigerclaw?” He asked evenly.

“Gather a patrol together and secure our borders.” He said. “We need to make sure that RiverClan haven’t made any forays into our territory while we’ve been distracted with ShadowClan, and I also want you to check and make sure that none of the cats we drove _from_ ShadowClan have ended up in our territory.”

“Of course.” Whitestorm nodded, bowing his head, before turning around and indicating cats to take with him. As the crowd around Squirrelpaw dispersed further, Tigerclaw’s eyes narrowed and he padded up to Squirrelpaw herself. She stifled a wave of fear.

“Just because the rest of the clan seems to trust you already doesn’t mean I do.” He growled. Out of the corner of her eye, Squirrelpaw could see Sandpaw, as well as the remaining members of the clan, watching the two of them interact.

“I didn’t expect you to.” She managed to mew without stuttering. Thankfully, her experiences of being told off routinely by cats older and larger than her meant that she didn’t immediately cow in the face of his threatening display. Tigerclaw said nothing immediately; instead, he continued to loom over her.

“I expected that any kin of Fireheart’s was going to be bad news.” He eventually said. “And clearly, you have inherited his brashness and yearning for attention.” Flashing Squirrelpaw a warning glance with his amber eyes, he turned on his paws and began to pad away. “Don’t think that your circumstances will mean you receive any special treatment.” He warned her. “And as it stands now, know that I don’t believe you to be worthy of this clan’s trust.”

Remembering what her father had told her about Tigerclaw – about his scheming, his lying, and his plotting – Squirrelpaw was too indignant at an accusation of untrustworthiness from him of _all_ cats to take it lying down.

“It takes one to know one,” she meowed loudly, “Tigerclaw.”

Tigerclaw’s gaze, icy for eyes so warm a colour, was fixed on her in a blink as he wheeled around to stare her down. Forcing her own fear down, Squirrelpaw remembered every time she’d thought she or some cat she cared about was going to die over the course of both her journey and her return to the forest. She’d stared death in the face more than once. An attempt at intimidation by this Brambleclaw look-alike was not going to unease her now. She stiffened her stance, stood her ground, and stared right back at him.

Their gazes held for several seconds. It ended when she blinked, and Tigerclaw turned his head away with a low rumble of distaste building in his throat. He stalked across the clearing and into the warrior’s den. The last Squirrelpaw saw of him was his shadow, elongated by the morning sun’s rays, stretching across the clearing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the remnants of the crowd dispersing as well, cowed by their fierce deputy.

A chill ran down Squirrelpaw’s spine, and she let herself shudder. Looking down at her paws, she blinked in surprise. She hadn’t even meant to unsheathe her claws. She retracted them before any cat could notice, but if Sandpaw’s expression was anything to go by, it was too late.

“What was that?” Sandpaw hissed at her frantically. Squirrelpaw must have looked bemused, because Sandpaw’s tail lashed and she continued: “Darkstripe is one thing, but you can’t just go around picking fights with Tigerclaw, of _all_ cats!”

“Why not?” Squirrelpaw demanded, feeling defensive. If she were being honest with herself, she also felt curious as to what her mother’s opinion on this infamous cat might have once been.

Sandpaw rolled her eyes. “He’s clan deputy, you stupid furball! Do I have to explain why antagonizing him is a bad idea?” She meowed harshly. “Besides, an angry Tigerclaw is something you never want to see.” She turned away in distaste.

Squirrelpaw sighed, and turned back to where she’d seen Tigerclaw. How was it that his son could be such a different cat?

“His son?” Sandpaw asked, and it occurred to Squirrelpaw with something of a jolt that she had said that out loud.

“Yeah, his son.” She admitted. Oh well. She couldn’t, according to StarClan, change the future anyway. She certainly doubted there’d be any harm in revealing that.

“What’s his son like?” Sandpaw asked, curiosity edged into her mew. The question made Squirrelpaw pause for thought. _How to describe a cat like Brambleclaw?_ She wondered.

“Insufferable.” She meowed. Then, after a moment: “But a great cat.”

“Those two things don’t go together.” Sandpaw observed dryly. It was a very “Sandstorm” thing to say, and Squirrelpaw forced down the homesickness that was quickly becoming familiar.

“Not normally, no.” Squirrelpaw admitted. “But… I don’t know how else to describe the stupid furball. He tried to stop me from coming with him on the trip to the sun-drown place – and sometimes it really felt like he was just trying to step in and parent me – but he’s a good leader who listened to all of us and tried to do right by us.” She let herself be enveloped by the warmth of her memories. “I supposed I just have a lot of faith in him.”

Sandpaw looked bemused. “What’s the “sun-drown” place?” She asked.

“I- Oh.” Squirrelpaw’s words faltered as she realised that at this point in time, no cat would ever have even heard of the sun-drown place. “It’s… it’d take a while to explain.”

She half-expected Sandpaw to let the matter drop, but apparently with youth came impulsiveness, as Sandpaw padded up to her, not properly tense but not relaxed either.

“I think I’ve got time.” She said, an edge to her voice. Squirrelpaw made a nervous noise in spite of herself.

“Weren’t you… going to show me around the camp?” She managed. Sandpaw shrugged.

“We can do both.” She meowed.

Squirrelpaw couldn’t argue with that.

So, as Sandpaw trotted through the camp and showed it all to Squirrelpaw, Squirrelpaw gave her an abridged retelling of the journey to the sun-drown place by StarClan’s chosen – as well as her and Stormfur. Breezing past the context that led to their journey (especially seeing as, on reflection, she couldn’t find a way to phrase it without presenting herself as some kind of overeager and unexperienced apprentice), she talked about their journey through twoleg place – and, once they arrived at the sun-drown place, what it actually was. Sandpaw scoffed disbelievingly as Squirrelpaw told her about water that tasted of salt, and stretched as far as the eye could see, far enough to submerge the sun every night.

Squirrelpaw looked around the camp as Sandpaw gave her the tour. In her time, the camp was a little larger, and if a cat looked hard enough they could see the charred remains of some of the old dens, which had been destroyed in the fire that had swept through camp before she had been born. She could tell that it hadn’t happened yet, though – not only was there any evidence of fire in the camp, but Yellowfang was still alive (her father had told her that she had died during the fire, and his voice had rung with guilt as he had done so).

Sandpaw came to a halt outside of the elder’s den, and indicated faintly with her tail to it. Squirrelpaw looked it over, but before she could take in the sight, a voice from inside called “Is that the new cat?”

Sandpaw turned to Squirrelpaw. “Sorry about them,” she mewed, though she neither sounded nor looked sorry.

“Show her in!” The same voice said.

“It’s fine!” Squirrelpaw forced, before scrabbling inside the den to see the elders.

Once inside, she was struck by the fact that she really didn’t know who any of these cats were. She recognized Dappletail, but none of the other elders. Sandpaw slid in behind her.

“This is Squirrelpaw.” She introduced. “She claims to be Fireheart’s kit, come from the future, and no-one in the clan can prove that she’s lying, so…”

Squirrelpaw shot Sandpaw a look, affronted.

“Kit from the future?” One of the elders croaked. “That can’t be possible!”

“Now now, Smallear, we don’t know for sure.” Meowed another elder. Looking at him, Squirrelpaw was surprised to see a stump where his tail was supposed to be. He kept talking: “StarClan works in mysterious ways.”

Squirrelpaw thought it best to not mention that StarClan hadn’t sent her, and instead nodded politely at the elders.

“I’m Squirrelpaw.” She introduced herself, trying to not sound too stiff.

“Welcome, Squirrelpaw.” Greeted the second elder.

“I’ll bet she doesn’t even know who we are.” Came a fresh voice. Turning to look, Squirrelpaw saw an old grey she-cat with a clouded eye doing her best to stare. “I barely expected to survive to see that kittypet become a warrior,” she continued, “I don’t suppose I’ll see the day he has kits.”

The statement was true, if macabre, and Squirrelpaw flattened her ears on her head.

“I mean…” she blustered, “I know Dappletail?”

The old she-cat cackled. “Well, that’s not so bad.” She meowed, sounding strangely self-satisfied for a cat who had just found out that they were only going to survive for so much longer.

“Well, I did spend a lot of time in here…” Squirrelpaw admitted. “Maybe I just don’t recognise some of you.”

“Oh, you spent a lot of time in here, you say?” Asked the first elder. There was humour in his mew. “I don’t suppose you were the best-behaved apprentice, then.”

Squirrelpaw’s fur burned, but she knew that she would be lying if she denied it. Instead, she turned up her nose in an attempt to appear unbothered.

“My father was no better, apparently.” She mewed. “And I’m happy to follow in his footsteps.”

Sandpaw snorted behind her, but she paid her no mind. The elders seemed to collectively shrug their shoulders.

“Well, there’s no denying that his apprenticeship was a little odd.” Said the elder missing a tail. “And he definitely got up to mischief.”

“Oh yes.” Agreed Dappletail. “Remember when he found Yellowfang, and fed both her and himself while on a hunting patrol?”

The old she-cat cackled again. “Bluestar had him taking care of that old mange-bag for… how long was it?”

“It certainly _felt_ like moons.” Remarked the fifth elder.

Squirrelpaw resisted the urge to sink to her haunches and listen to the elders reminisce, but before she could do so, a cat cleared their throat from the entrance to the den. Everyone turned around to see Bluestar standing there. Though her expression was not unkind, there was clear authority and sternness in her stance.

“Sorry to interrupt.” She meowed. “I was hoping to talk to Squirrelpaw.”

Squirrelpaw backed out of the elder’s den past Sandpaw and turned to face Bluestar. “I’m here.” She responded. Bluestar eyed her.

“I can see that.” She remarked, not without humour. “Is Fireheart with you?”

Squirrelpaw shook her head. “No,” she revealed, “he’s asleep after his vigil. Sandpaw’s been showing me around.”

Bluestar nodded thoughtfully.

“In that case, I shan’t keep you long.” She meowed. “I just wanted to make sure that you were settling in well enough.”

“Well enough, uh, Bluestar.” Squirrelpaw replied. “It’s a bit surreal, but it helps that there are some familiar faces. Sort of.”

Bluestar, instead of responding verbally, kept her eyes fixed on her. Unblinking. Bemused by all of the staring that seemed to be happening around her, Squirrelpaw fought the instinctive urge to lean back, or to try and evade Bluestar’s gaze. She didn’t have to endure it for long, however, as Bluestar soon enough retracted her stare and breathed a sigh.

“You never met me, did you?”

Squirrelpaw was stunned. How had Bluestar been able to tell? But the old leader wasn’t done:

“You didn’t react to me with any sort of familiarity, as you did with some of the members of my clan. You knew my name, but you didn’t know me.” She explained. Her voice softened. “I do not hold your indirect honesty against you. And you mustn’t worry for me – I am aware of my age, and my own mortality. There is only… only one thing I wish to ask you.” She stared at the ground, before looking up at Squirrelpaw with a blinding intensity. “Is the clan safe?” She demanded. “Is it cared for, by its new leader?”

That, at least, Squirrelpaw could answer – even if she probably was biased.

“I’d trust no cat more.” She answered, truthfully, thinking of her father. Of how he had, by all accounts, risked everything time and time again for not only his own clan, but for all the clans in the forest. “He’s a fine clan leader.”

Bluestar seemed to wilt with relief.

“That is all I could hope for.” She revealed. “Thank you, Squirrelpaw.” With that, she dipped her head and then padded off to the side, heading for the medicine den.

“I- um- you’re welcome.” Squirrelpaw managed to say. Bluestar gave no indication that she had heard. She watched the leader depart in silence.

Sandpaw’s meow rang out from behind her:

“It’s just one encounter after another for you, isn’t it?” She remarked. But then, her voice lost some of its wryness. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I wouldn’t like either Bluestar _or_ Tigerclaw to have conversations like that with me.” She paused, and then continued. “Even beyond that, you’re taking the fact that you’re apparently gone back in time very well. I mean-” She cut herself off suddenly, eyes widening. But Squirrelpaw could guess what she would have said next.

“You don’t think you would take it so well in my position?” Squirrelpaw asked.

Sandpaw’s lack of an answer was all she needed to hear. Squirrelpaw purred slightly to herself as she thought about Sandpaw’s point. Well, the fact was that she’d been hit with many pangs of homesickness that she hadn’t given away – and what she had said to Bluestar had been true. Though the circumstances were different, she was in the place she had grown up and “knew”, technically, many members of the clan. That familiarity definitely helped. Besides, whilst being sent backwards in time was definitely the _strangest_ thing to happen to her, it wasn’t the first time that she’d been on something of an adventure.

“Well, to be fair,” she eventually pointed out, “I don’t know how much experience you have, but when you’ve seen some of the things I’ve seen, like the sun-drown place, or Sharptooth, or…” she trailed off as she thought back to the twolegs that were, in her time, swarming the forest. Her heart sank. Yes, that was her reality now, wasn’t it?

Sandpaw’s voice cut through her musings. “Alright, I know you told me about the sun-drown place, but what in the name of StarClan is a “Sharptooth”?” Her mother’s voice was filled with utter confusion. Squirrelpaw opened her mouth to launch into a full explanation – before realising that in order to properly explain Sharptooth, she would have to explain the tribe, and from there, the mountains, and from there…

“You know what?” She mewed. “How about I start from the beginning?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love dramatic irony


	5. The one where Squirrelpaw tells a story and Fireheart misses most of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are mmmmmprobably going to be slower now that school's started back up again, but I'm still working on it! ^_^

**5**

Fireheart awoke to someone prodding him. Blinking awake with a complaint on his lips, he managed to hold his tongue at the sight of Greystripe standing over him.

“Greystripe!” He managed to mew as he began to scrabble to his feet. The light was thin, and the deep colours of dusk permeated the warrior’s den. Fireheart realised that he had probably slept through the whole day. “Is everything alright?” He asked.

Greystripe’s expression was inscrutable. “Apparently the cat that attacked us at the entrance this morning is your kit from the future.” He meowed.

Fireheart gave a start as he remembered that morning’s events, and with that came a burst of worry. Was Greystripe upset that he hadn’t told him?

“Greystripe, I’m sorry.” He began. “I wanted to tell you but you were already asleep-”

“It’s fine!” Greystripe blurted out, before breathing and seeming to make a conscious effort to make himself look smaller and less threatening. He seemed to buzz with energy. “Fireheart, I’m not offended. Weirded out, maybe, on multiple levels, but I’m not annoyed at you.”

“…Oh.” Fireheart mewed dumbly. “Then, why are you-?”

“She’s telling stories in the clearing.” Greystripe explained. “Most of the clan’s there – Tigerclaw had to really make an effort to get any cats to go on patrol! And most of everyone else is listening to her.” He seemed delighted at the prospect of Tigerclaw struggling to organise ThunderClan. “Even Bluestar was there, when I last checked just before coming in here.”

“Oh.” Mewed Fireheart again.

“Fireheart…” Greystripe broke off, like he wasn’t sure how to phrase what he had to say, before starting his sentence again. He sounded… excited. “Fireheart, if what she’s saying is true, she’s had just about the most eventful apprenticeship any cat in the clan’s ever had!”

Fireheart was on his feet in a second. “Is that a good thing?” He asked, suddenly and inexplicably worried.

“I mean, yeah!” Greystripe meowed. Then his expression fogged over. “I mean, maybe not for you. If _I_ ever had kits, and they’d gone through all the stuff she had, I’d just about have a heart attack.”

“That’s not encouraging, Greystripe!” Fireheart told his friend sternly as he slithered out of the warrior’s den and into the centre of camp.

Squirrelpaw was sat a little way away from the freshkill pile, at the centre of a cluster of ThunderClan cats. Right beside her was Sandpaw, and Fireheart’s heart was buoyed at the realisation that despite their differences, Sandpaw had actually stayed with Squirrelpaw like he had asked. (Maybe there was hope for them after all.) The clan’s kits were right in front of Squirrelpaw, hanging onto her every word with their tails swishing back and forth behind them. The queens, as well as some elders and warriors, were listening in as well. Some weren’t gathered in the huddle, instead eating further away, but it was clear they were listening in as well. Even Yellowfang was watching warily from the entrance to the medicine den, and Bluestar was nearby.

“Tigerclaw took Darkstripe, Longtail, and Dustpaw out on patrol.” Greystripe filled him in as the two made their way across the camp towards Squirrelpaw. “Sounded like he was in a bad temper as well. I don’t think he likes Squirrelpaw very much.”

 _Of course he wouldn’t_ , Fireheart reflected darkly, _she’s_ my _kit._ It made sense that the grudge the two cats had would carry over between generations, that was for sure. But his Tigerclaw-related musings were interrupted by Squirrelpaw, as she caught sight of him.

“Father! You’re awake!” She called joyously. There were murmured greetings from the rest of the clan as Fireheart sat himself down near the edge of the huddle.

“Yeah, I am.” He mewed. “What have I missed?”

“A _lot_!” Squeaked one of the kits. The others all agreed in excited high-pitched voices. Frostfur’s eyes were sympathetic as she greeted him.

“Probably for the best that you have.” She admitted. “I couldn’t stand any of my kits going through what yours already has – I would have died of fright!”

“Greystripe said something similar.” Fireheart grumbled, before raising his voice to address Squirrelpaw: “Should I be worried?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Squirrelpaw’s voice was filled with confidence as she replied. Then, her face softened. “I’ll tell you later, I promise, but I’m in the middle of something right now. Now, where was I…?” She made a spectacle of narrowing her eyes and peering off into the middle distance, as if she were straining to remember what she had been talking about.

“Sharptooth!” Cheered the kits. “Sharptooth!”

“Ah, that was right!” Squirrelpaw encouraged. She ran her tongue over her muzzle, and lowered herself a little closer to the ground, like she was dropping into a hunting crouch. “Well,” she meowed, “I must confess, Sharptooth arrived sooner than we had expected.”

One of the kits wailed in dismay. Squirrelpaw purred.

“We hadn’t even finished laying down the rabbit properly when he burst into the cave! And I finally managed to see what he looked like, in all his twisted glory.” Her voice lowered a touch, and it carried further across the camp. “He was big, far bigger than any cat, big to trap us beneath one paw. He had golden fur, darkened by the cave and the damp.”

There were murmurs amidst ThunderClan. Even the senior warriors present, such as Whitestorm, sounded surprised.

“He sounds like he belongs to one of the ancient clans.” He murmured, as if deep in thought. “But no cat has seen such a creature for seasons…”

“Well, we saw him there!” Squirrelpaw retorted. “He dived into the cave, and in one blow, he had knocked the rabbit aside! And just like that, our trap had been foiled!”

Gasps rang out. Fireheart, despite barely knowing what was happening in his daughter’s story, felt a wave of fear ripple up and down his spine.

“Brambleclaw-” Squirrelpaw hesitated for the moment, as if the name gave her pause, “he jumped forward instead of backwards, and before any of the rest of us could act, he had clawed Sharptooth right across his giant muzzle! Sharptooth tried to capture him in his jaws, to crush him and drag him away, but Brambleclaw managed to _leap_ out of the way just in time!” She shook her head and sat up a little straighter, suddenly looking a lot more imperious. “Of course, it was stupid of him, but I wasn’t going to let him get himself killed – so, while Sharptooth was distracted, I ran at him, and jumped right onto his back!”

Another stunned reaction of noise from ThunderClan rang out. Frostfur and Speckletail were both staring at Squirrelpaw with wide eyes, whilst all of the kits from the nursery were batting at each other or jumping up and down in exhilaration and excitement. Sandpaw, still sitting by Squirrelpaw’s side, shot her companion a looked that said in equal parts “that was impressive” and “that was stupid”. More than one cat turned to Fireheart, as if attempting to gauge his reaction.

“Unbelievable.” Fireheart heard Greystripe mutter. He didn’t reply. He felt as though his heart was in his throat.

Squirrelpaw either didn’t notice the effect her words had on her audience, or merely _pretended_ not to notice. She kept telling her story.

“Right after I jumped on, I could hear a voice in my head tell me that it was a stupid idea, and I agreed-! So, I leapt off before he could throw me off, and clambered up to a piece of rock jutting out of the wall of the cave. He lunged at me, but I was just out of his reach! For the time being, we could do nothing to each other, other than hiss and spit in fury.” Her face fell. “Of course, Sharptooth wouldn’t give up that easily. With me no longer nearby, he had to look for someone else to try and kill. And- and he found his next target.” She paused, waited a moment, and let the name fall from her mouth. “He cornered Crowpaw, at the back of the cave.”

The name, Crowpaw, meant nothing to Fireheart – but it had evidently come up in the story before, as more than one dismayed wail erupted from the ThunderClan cats.

“But what about the prophecy?” He heard an elder mew (he thought it was Patchpelt, but he couldn’t say for sure.”

“Did Crowpaw escape?” Asked a kit.

Squirrelpaw indicated with her tail, and the noise died down.

“Relax, relax.” She urged the clan. “He’s not dead yet-!”

“That’s a poor choice of words.” Greystripe muttered loudly.

“Right before Sharptooth lunged at Crowpaw,” Squirrelpaw said loudly, commanding every cat’s attention, “Feathertail jumped over his head, and onto an overhanging rock on the ceiling of the cave. She clutched onto it, and pulled with all her might, and the rock broke off and _plummeted_ down, crashing on top of Sharptooth!” The energy seemed to drain out of her as she continued. “She… she died along with him.”

There were more disturbed mutterings amongst the gathered cats. Fireheart had no idea who Feathertail was either, but he could only presume that Squirrelpaw had introduced all the cats earlier, while he had been asleep.

Squirrelpaw took a couple of moments to compose herself before speaking next. “But Feathertail didn’t die in vain!” She emphasised. “We may have lost a friend that day, but Sharptooth was slain, and the tribe was finally free of the tyranny that had been haunting them for generations.”

The warriors, such as Mousefur and Whitestorm, eyed Squirrelpaw with approval in their eyes. Fireheart didn’t immediately understand their reaction, but then it hit him – it was probably the most mature reaction a cat could have to that scenario. Though her name may have been Squirrelpaw, it was clear that his daughter was more than some brash apprentice, and worthy of her warrior name. The thought induced both pride and upset within Fireheart, for reasons that he himself would be hard-pressed to articulate.

“What happened next?” The eldest of the kits, Swiftkit (soon to be apprenticed, if rumour was to be believed), asked tensely. Squirrelpaw shrugged her shoulders.

“Nothing else as dramatic, I’m afraid.” She confessed. “We buried Feathertail – Stormfur and Crowpaw sat vigil for her – and then we left the mountains, on the last leg of our journey home, back to the clans.”

The explanation filled Fireheart with more questions than it did answers – what were the mountains, and how far away were they from the clan’s territories? – but comprehension remained on the faces of much of the rest of Squirrelpaw’s audience, leaving Fireheart to wonder just how much of his daughter’s story he’d missed.

“That was the closest our journey had to a dramatic climax.” Squirrelpaw explained. “From there, it was a simple – if long – walk back to clan territory. We…” she sounded hesitant. “We had just arrived back when I found myself here, in the past.”

“That explains how she managed to send you flying, at any rate.” Muttered Greystripe with an amused purr. “This sounds like it’s all just the latest in a long line of exploits, for her.”

“How do you even know so much?” Fireheart asked, hit with a prickle of irritation about how he seemed to be the cat who knew the least about his own daughter’s apparent “exploits”. “Weren’t you sleeping after our vigil, as well?”

“I was.” Greystripe shrugged. “Then I got hungry.”

It was a typical Greystripe response, and Fireheart was about to roll his eyes before he realised that Bluestar was making her way towards him – he fixed his attention on his leader as she approached.

“Hello, Fireheart.” She mewed. “Slept well?”

“Very well, thank you Bluestar.” Fireheart nodded, before turning to where Squirrelpaw was still speaking to the rest of the clan. “Though I’ve apparently missed a lot.”

Bluestar nodded, solemnly. “Squirrelpaw has spent most of the day regaling the clan with her exploits from the future. And though I doubt there wasn’t exaggeration, much of it sounded genuine. It… it troubles me.”

“Troubles you?” Fireheart echoed. Bluestar suddenly looked very weighed down with the responsibility of her leadership.

“It troubles me that cats from ThunderClan – no, that cats from all the clans – had to put themselves in such danger for all our sakes.” She admitted. “And that the clans continue to face danger well into the future.”

Fireheart wasn’t sure what to say. What words could he offer to reassure his leader now? Thankfully, Whitestorm approached the pair and, having apparently overheard Bluestar, put forward his own words of advice.

“In many ways, Bluestar, the clans always face some kind of crisis. It is a part of our way of life that there are problems that arise, and cats who work to prevent or solve them.” He meowed soothingly. “But I believe that what Squirrelpaw has described is just another example of this, albeit maybe more extreme than we’re used to – and that even if we aren’t there, the clan will survive.”

Fireheart felt calmed by the elder warrior’s perspective, but Bluestar remained unalleviated.

“Whitestorm, I wish I shared your optimism.” She admitted. “But it is… hard to come to terms with. We fight out of hope that our circumstances improve, and that things get better. But while it is one thing to suspect that the cycle may continue beyond you, it is another thing to hear confirmation of it.”

Fireheart and Whitestorm shared a worried glance.

“We are trusting Squirrelpaw’s word that she is, in fact, from the future?” Whitestorm ventured.

Bluestar hesitated – then nodded.

“It is strange.” She admitted. “But we have no reason to doubt the validity of her claim. I discussed it with Tigerclaw earlier – we agreed that seeing as there is no indication of her belonging to another clan, there is little to suggest that she is a rogue, and that she resembles Fireheart closely enough to be kin, our best option is to accept her story as truth.”

Whitestorm nodded solemnly. “I accept your judgement, Bluestar.” He meowed.

Fireheart barely heard the words; Bluestar had inadvertedly reminded him of his mission – to talk to her about Tigerclaw! Squirrelpaw’s arrival and the subsequent chaos had driven it from his mind, but her mention of her deputy had reminded him of Ravenpaw’s story and his own concerns. Anxious energy rushed through him, and he shook himself a little. He had to talk to Bluestar!

“Bluestar, I-” He began – before being cut off as Squirrelpaw bounded into him.

“Wha- Squirrelpaw!” He scolded, but his daughter remained unabashed as she raised her head to him. He saw that the clan had dispersed behind her – she must have sated their curiosity, at least for that night.

“Sorry you missed most of it!” She blurted out. “I would have waited until you were awake to start, but everyone was super curious and wouldn’t let me wait!”

“Don’t lie.” Came a drawl from Sandpaw, who was following Squirrelpaw at a more measured pace. “Once you launched into that story, you sounded _very_ passionate about telling it.” She eyed Fireheart. “Your kit has a penchant for theatrics.”

“I noticed.” Fireheart told her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bluestar and Whitestorm padding off, and for a moment, frustration flew through him. But then he remembered Bluestar’s words about spending time with one’s children, and forced himself to soften. This was his _daughter_ , and it was unlikely that Tigerclaw had anything planned for that night. And it would be better to talk to Bluestar early the next morning, when she would be more alert and attentive, then at the end of today (which had been an extremely abnormal day, thanks to Squirrelpaw). Yes, he decided, he would talk to Bluestar tomorrow.

“Sandpaw,” he ventured, “thank you. For taking care of Squirrelpaw.”

Sandpaw looked noncommittal. “You asked me to.” She meowed evenly.

“Yes, but…” Fireheart trailed off, not quite sure what he wanted to say. He noticed suddenly that Squirrelpaw was watching the two of them very intently, her green eyes flicking back and forth as though she were witnessing two cats having a thrilling debate.

“But what?” Sandpaw prompted, apparently not seeing Squirrelpaw. Fireheart focused back on her.

“Nothing.” He mewed. “I mean- it’s nothing.”

Sandpaw looked at him like he was an idiot (which was nothing new), and then turned her back on him.

“Just don’t ask me to do it again.” There was a slight snarl to her voice, and Fireheart watched, suitably cowed, as she began to stalk back to the apprentice’s den.

“Oh, come on!” Squirrelpaw protested suddenly. “I wasn’t _that_ bad company, was I Sandpaw?”

Sandpaw turned her head to glower at her.

“You were tolerable.” She snapped. “But you’re still half-kittypet, so don’t push your luck.”

Fireheart saw Squirrelpaw flinch backwards, and glared at Sandpaw as she stalked back to the apprentice’s den. She slid into it and vanished from sight.

“Sandpaw really doesn’t like you, does she?” Squirrelpaw asked. Fireheart looked down at her to see her looking surprisingly dismayed. Why was she so upset about it?

“You get used to it, after a while.” He offered. “Either that, or she’s just had a hairball stuck somewhere ever since I arrived at camp. That’s Greystripe’s theory, anyway.”

Squirrelpaw purred in amusement quickly, but didn’t say anything.

“Come on.” Fireheart, after a moment’s hesitation, licked Squirrelpaw’s ear in what he hoped was a parental manner. “Let’s…” he trailed off as he saw Tigerclaw and his patrol return.

“Let’s what?” Squirrelpaw asked, but Fireheart was already padding over to Tigerclaw, who had turned to look at him imperiously.

“Fireheart.” He greeted. “I want you on the evening patrol tonight.”

Fireheart nodded. “Yes, Tigerclaw.” He said, having already expected the order. “Is it alright if I take Squirrelpaw with me? The two of us can go with Greystripe.” He saw the deputy’s face sour at the mention of his daughter’s name, and felt himself divided at the reaction – on the one hand, it worried him that a cat of Tigerclaw’s ambition and demeanour would take a dislike to his kit, but on the other hand, there was something in him that was proud of his daughter for seemingly not getting along with Tigerclaw either.

He tried to stifle the thought. It was immature; did it make him a bad father?

“Very well.” Tigerclaw acquiesced. “Just don’t spend your whole time nattering like elders, and actually pay attention to the patrol.”

Fireheart fought down an indignant protest. “Yes, Tigerclaw.” He managed to repeat. Tigerclaw nodded and then stalked off. Fireheart turned and walked back to Squirrelpaw, ignoring the sneers he heard from Dustpaw and Darkstripe about kittypets and kittypet spawn.

“You hear that?” He asked Squirrelpaw. She nodded, although she didn’t look happy.

“I’m surprised that one’s is still in the mood to talk about kittypets,” she revealed, glaring over Fireheart’s shoulder at Darkstripe, “considering how I’ve already fought him once today over it.”

“That’s just how it is.” Fireheart sighed, not stopping to consider the implications of her not knowing Darkstripe’s name. “If we could prove ourselves worthy through fights alone, Longtail wouldn’t have said a thing to me since my first day in camp.”

Squirrelpaw turned to him in abject surprise. “You fought Longtail?” She gasped.

Fireheart purred. “Don’t tell me the future me never told you?” When Squirrelpaw still looked surprised, he indicated with his tail. “How do you think he got that torn ear of his?”

Squirrelpaw cackled. “Oh, that’s brilliant!” She managed to say. Fireheart purred again.

Greystripe approached them, looking a bit unnerved by their good humour. “Tigerclaw told me that I was going on patrol with the two of you, but he didn’t tell me whatever’s made the two of you so happy.”

“Apparently Squirrelpaw didn’t know that me and Longtail had a fight when I first came to the clan.” Fireheart explained. “She’s just enjoying that fact.”

“Aah, I remember that.” An overly-satisfied expression made its way onto Greystripe’s face. “I’d give any amount of fresh-kill to relive that day.”

“Speaking of fresh-kill-” Fireheart indicated to the camp entrance, “-we should get going.”

“Right.” Greystripe nodded, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Squirrelpaw?”

Squirrelpaw looked like she was bouncing in place. “Yeah!” She confirmed. “Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greystripe: "Haha man, if I had kids and they did the stuff Squirrelpaw did, I'd freak."  
> Squirrelpaw [overhearing him]: "Funny you should say that-"


	6. The one where Fireheart is still a bit confused but trying his best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID say that updates would be slower now that I'm back at school. ...I think. Hang on, let me check.
> 
> Yep, I did! Glad I clarified that. xD Well, yeah, that's still a thing. I'm doing my best, and I have a decent idea of what I'm actually doing with this story (which is, like, pretty good by my standards), but it will be slower between academic requirements (I have some big exams coming up y'all) and my other writing-related progress. That might also be why this chapter is on the shorter side, but ah well! Onwards!

**6**

“So, you’re really Fireheart’s daughter.” Greystripe’s meow came as Squirrelpaw had her nose up in the air, trying to catch the scent of prey. She flicked her tail-tip in irritation before realising that it hadn’t been a question – just a statement. It was just the two of them at that point – Fireheart had rushed off to quickly catch a squirrel.

The forest was a far cry from the delipidated and bare landscape that it was in Squirrelpaw’s time – though the cold of leaf-bare was unmistakable, there was still a sense of life about the forest, and the prey was still more plentiful than it was in her time. And, of course, Greystripe was here. How could she face him, knowing the fate that awaited him in her time? Of course, he wasn’t technically dead, but to her it seemed so unlikely that she would ever see him again. The sight of his face pressed up against the back of the monster, she knew, would haunt her for a long time. Not only that, but Feathertail had been his daughter! She hadn’t been able to look at him as she’d been telling the story of the prophecy.

Her limbs tensed. _Feathertail_ … her meeting with the dead she-cat in her dream before being sent to the past had freshened the wound, but it had also made it easier, somehow, to think about. Like she was coming to terms with her friend’s death. It was probably why she had been able to include Feathertail and her death in her story at all; that, and the knowledge that Feathertail had died to save them all, both their group from the prophecy and the tribe cats. But all of that hadn’t made it any easier for her to think of Feathertail in the context of Greystripe – Greystripe, whose gaze she could feel upon her.

She remained turned away from him, afraid to look him in the eyes.

“Anything you’re curious about?” She asked instead. “I know you missed part of my, uh, part of my story.”

“I mean, I’m more trying to wrap my head around it than anything else.” Greystripe admitted. Finally giving in and turning around, she saw him staring at her like she had no idea what to make of her. Which, she had to admit, was a fair reaction.

Squirrelpaw shrugged. “Believe me, I’m struggling with that a bit as well.”

Greystripe laughed in surprise. “Fair enough.” He admitted.

There was a moment’s silence – Squirrelpaw’s tail idly swished into some leaves – before Greystripe spoke again.

“I am curious, though;” he admitted, “how am I? In the future, I mean? Am I a renowned warrior, or a skilful hunter?”

Squirrelpaw forced down a fresh wave of grief and guilt.

“Well, you’re a loyal warrior to ThunderClan.” She managed to say without giving anything away in her tone of voice. “No cat doubts… that…” She trailed off, ignoring Greystripe’s mew of surprise, as she remembered something that had been mentioned to her by some cat in her time while she had still been a kit. She turned to Greystripe. “You were in RiverClan!” She revealed, properly remembering as she said it out loud.

“What?” Blurted Greystripe, loudly. It clearly wasn’t the reply he’d been expecting, and Squirrelpaw, in spite of herself, stifled a laugh as she saw him have a minor crisis on the spot. “Why- how did that happen?”

“I don’t remember!” She explained. “It was before I was born. But there was a period of time where you lived in RiverClan, I remember someone telling me that when I was a kit.”

Greystripe looked as though he was questioning everything he thought he’d known about himself. “I was… a RiverClan cat…?” He looked down at his paws in a daze. Squirrelpaw purred in amusement (even if she _did_ feel a bit sorry for him).

“Cheer up, you great lump.” She encouraged him. “You’re ThunderClan through and through, no cat doubts that. And if I don’t remember you there, you’ve been back for a while.”

Greystripe looked up to her in a panic. “But I can’t swim!” He blurted.

Squirrelpaw couldn’t help herself; a laugh burst out of her (and she wasn’t sure if she was laughing more at Greystripe’s reaction, or at his priorities). Of course, Fireheart chose that moment to reconvene with the two of them, the errant squirrel clenched in his jaws. He dropped the prey and peered curiously at the two other cats.

“What have I missed?” He managed to ask before Greystripe dramatically dove to him in distress.

“Fireheart!” He whined. “Your daughter said that I go to RiverClan in the future!”

Fireheart eyed Squirrelpaw in surprise and suspicion. “You’re not just telling him that to wind him up, are you?” He asked. Squirrelpaw responded gleefully:

“Nope! It’s true!” She paused for a moment, taking in the look of horror quickly appearing on her father’s face, before adding: “He comes back, though.”

Fireheart stared at her, baffled, for a moment, before leaning down and awkwardly nudging the still-whining Greystripe.

“…Well, I’m sure you have your reasons?” He meowed uncertainly. Greystripe’s protests only grew louder. Fireheart flicked him with his tail. “Come on, Greystripe, you’re going to scare off all the prey in the forest!” He scolded.

Greystripe stopped, and clambered to his paws, shaking himself and putting on an air of indignance.

“You know what, I’m not curious anymore.” He blustered. “The future can keep itself to itself! If it’s full of stuff like that, I’m not sure I want to know.”

Squirrelpaw rolled her eyes. “You _did_ ask.”

Instead of saying anything back, Greystripe simply sighed miserably. Fireheart gave him a look that was equal parts irritation and sympathy, while Squirrelpaw wondered how much of Greystripe’s distress was genuine, and how much of it was reactionary melodrama. To be fair, she reasoned, the clan boundaries ran very strong, so it would be a shock to any cat to learn that they had changed allegiances and gone to another clan, even if they would ultimately return later. Her attention drifting from her father and Greystripe, and her good humour fading, she trotted a little way away, not really paying attention to the hunting she was supposed to be doing. She was far too lost in her own thoughts for that.

The thought of clan boundaries, she reflected, seemed almost foreign to her now. Not that she didn’t _understand_ them, because she still did – it was more that it didn’t seem to matter to her anymore. In her time, of course, the clans were facing an incredible peril, and the argument for unity amongst every cat was becoming stronger and stronger – spearheaded, of course, by her father. But even before that, she had spent over a moon travelling with cats from all of the clans, completely unseparated by boundaries. She knew that the bond that she had with not only Brambleclaw, but also Stormfur, Crowpaw, and Tawnypelt, was one that would stay with her throughout her lifetime – not to mention how she thought of Feathertail very much as a lost friend and comrade. Considering all of that, she was hit by realisation of just how different her perspective was to these cats; and not just because she was in the past.

A new, more intense feeling of homesickness washed over her. She tried to ground herself and resist it, riding it out, but she felt like a pebble on the shore of the sun-drown place, being buffeted and carried out to sea helplessly. She dropped her gaze to stare at her paws on the forest floor. It… it wasn’t fair! She had just gotten back home, why did some phenomenon – something that was apparently beyond even StarClan – have to take her away again? And then to leave her in some place that was _like_ home, that was _so_ similar, but still so different at the same time?

Her father and Greystripe were both still there, and she could feel their gazes.

“Squirrelpaw?” Fireheart asked. Burning with frustration and shame, she hesitated a moment before replying.

“I’m okay.” She tried to convince him (tried to convince herself). “I guess- I guess I just realised that I really _am_ here, is all.”

Fireheart and Greystripe were both silent for a moment. Greystripe sounded as though he was going to say something, but then didn’t.

She laid her head down on her paws, suddenly feeling so very small.

-

Fireheart exchanged a glance with Greystripe, not sure what to say. Squirrelpaw’s mood seemed to have plummeted very suddenly, and he knew neither the cause nor the solution. Greystripe, after a nervous twitch of his tail, had indicated with his head for Fireheart to do something. His eyes were still clouded by uneasiness (the news about his being a part of RiverClan for a time had obviously shaken him), but he also looked sympathetically at Squirrelpaw. Fireheart was glad he was there.

Sucking in a sharp breath, he moved over to Squirrelpaw and sat down beside her.

“Hey.” He ventured, trying to keep his voice soft. “It’s- it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t answer. Her ears were drooping.

“Not that it’s okay now, obviously.” He added as a clumsy afterthought. He tried to pull himself together. How would- how should a parent act in this situation?

“Okay, Squirrelpaw,” he began, “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now. And I’m sure that this is very stressful for you.” He hesitated. “So, I’m here, if you need me. Me, and Greystripe-” he shot Greystripe a look, and his friend hastily nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. Fireheart turned back to Squirrelpaw, who still wasn’t looking at him. “Bluestar too. Probably Yellowfang. And the rest of the clan – maybe even Sandpaw. Maybe.”

“Not the _whole_ rest of the clan.” Squirrelpaw’s voice was muffled – her face was buried against her paws.

Fireheart sighed. “Okay, not Tigerclaw. Or Darkstripe. Or Longtail and Dustpaw.” He admitted.

“But who cares about what they think?” Greystripe added, as he padded over to Squirrelpaw’s other side. “If they haven’t gotten used to Fireheart after all this time, that’s their problem. And- I mean, weird as you are-”

Suddenly feeing less grateful that Greystripe was there, Fireheart shot him a look, and Greystripe hastily backtracked.

“Never mind!” He mewed. “That’s… that’s their problem. Yeah.”

A noise that could have been a laugh came from Squirrelpaw. Fireheart took this as a positive sign.

“Come on.” He encouraged. “Maybe I’m not the Fireheart you know, but I can do my best to fill in for as long as this lasts. Does that work for you?”

There was a brief silence. Squirrelpaw eventually looked up at him, clearly brimming with gratitude.

“Thanks.” She mewed, voice thick with emotion. “Yes, that- that works for me.”

Fireheart purred. “There you go.” He encouraged, as Squirrelpaw rose to her feet warily. “Come on. Let’s finish this patrol and get back to camp. You could probably sleep for a moon if we let you.”

“Not that it’s up to us!” Greystripe added mischievously. “Bad luck, Squirrelpaw, but you’re probably going to get lumped with Sandpaw and Dustpaw, seeing as you’re an apprentice.”

Fireheart winced at the prospect, but as Squirrelpaw registered this revelation, she seemed relatively unbothered.

“Well, that’ll be interesting.” She shrugged the matter off. Greystripe glanced at Fireheart, and his question was clear: _how is it that YOUR kit isn’t bothered by the idea of spending time with Sandpaw and Dustpaw?_ Fireheart shook his head slightly in response. He wasn’t sure why either; though he would have expected this reaction, given her reaction to spending time with Sandpaw that morning, he didn’t know why-

A memory from that morning hit him.

“Dustpaw’s your mentor in the future!” He gasped.

Squirrelpaw looked exasperated as Greystripe stared at her in shock.

“You’re kidding.” He blurted.

“I mentioned it earlier!” Squirrelpaw retorted. “But yes, in the future, he’s my mentor. So, I trust him.”

Greystripe’s expression was one of mock solemnity as he stepped forward. “Squirrelpaw,” he remarked, “you have my utmost sympathies.” Fireheart couldn’t say he disagreed, but Squirrelpaw looked surprisingly offended by his friend’s joke.

“He’s not that bad!” She argued. “I mean, I- I couldn’t say that to his face, obviously, because he’d be super annoying about it, but I did learn a lot from him before leaving on the journey.”

“A lot about being a bad-tempered furball.” Muttered Greystripe.

Fireheart, however, had something else on his mind. “I… how did I even react to that?” He asked. “I mean, I _can’t_ have been happy with Dustpaw, of all cats, mentoring my daughter, could I?”

Squirrelpaw hesitated for a moment, before replying: “Oh, no, yes, you weren’t _overjoyed_ ,” she said, “but I think that you guys get on worse in this time than you will do by then.” There was an odd inflection to her voice – in Fireheart’s opinion, she was beginning to sound surprisingly jovial. Like she was trying to restrain herself from laughing.

What did she know…?

“So, uh, if Dustpaw’s your mentor, what does that make Sandpaw?” Greystripe ventured. “Because you didn’t seem particularly upset about _either_ of them.”

“That’s true!” Fireheart remembered. “When I asked Sandpaw to show Squirrelpaw around this morning, Squirrelpaw looked fine with it?”

Greystripe turned to Fireheart in surprise, now. “You asked her? Wha- did she agree?”

“Um. Yes.” Fireheart revealed. Greystripe stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head.

“Today just keeps getting stranger.” He muttered in something akin to disgust.

Squirrelpaw was definitely holding back laughter by this point, and Fireheart wasn’t sure whether to be relieved by his daughter’s elevated spirits, or utterly baffled by her reactions. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided on the former. That was more important.

“Let’s not worry about that now.” He meowed abruptly, trying to dispel the air of confusion from the conversation. Turning to Squirrelpaw, he indicated with his tail. “Patrol?”

“Way ahead of you!” Squirrelpaw was suddenly bounding into the undergrowth. “Bet I catch more than you!”

“You’re on!” Fireheart dived after her, relishing the laugh in his daughter’s voice and the sound of Greystripe yelling in surprise as he ran after them.

It’d all be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart's only had Squirrelpaw for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, he'd kill everyone in this room and then himself (or so goeth the meme)


	7. The one where both Squirrelpaw and Fireheart learn to fear Yellowfang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this chapter's a bit clunky in terms of pacing but the beginning and ending segments turned out longer than I thought they would xDD

**7**

On the first day after Squirrelpaw arrived in camp (following her patrol returning, and her having a long sleep in the apprentices’ den), she finally properly met the past version of her mentor. It was Dustpaw who initiated the meeting, honestly enough, almost running over to Squirrelpaw the moment he saw her blearily stumble out of the den. She’d been disorientated due to waking up in camp instead of at Sunningrocks, and it had taken her a moment, in her sleep-deprived state, to remember that she’d been sent back into the past. By the time she’d come to her senses, Dustpaw had been standing in front of her with an odd look on his face.

“…Hello.” She meowed evenly.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Dustpaw blurted, forgoing any introductions. Still a bit sleepy, and with little idea what to expect, Squirrelpaw stayed silent and waited for him to speak. In contrast, Dustpaw seemed surprisingly energetic. Squirrelpaw couldn’t say if he was normally this energetic or not as an apprentice, but it _definitely_ made a change to how he acted in her time. Even without being weighed down with worry over Ferncloud and his kits – as he was at her current time – she remembered him as a fairly laid-back and snarky cat, who took his duties as a warrior seriously and was devoted to his mate. Quite unlike the spiteful, energetic, Ferncloud-less apprentice that she’d observed during her time in the past so far.

She couldn’t decide if the differences were jarring or funny.

“What about?” She asked. Dustpaw fidgeted with his paws nervously.

“You… you said I’m your mentor in the future.” He mumbled. And just like that, how he was acting made a lot more sense. Squirrelpaw hadn’t even realised she had been tensed until she’d felt that tension release.

“Yeah, you are.” She confirmed. Dustpaw looked at her. “Urgent” was too strong to describe his expression, but he was clearly very curious about something.

“How does- how will that work out?” He asked. Squirrelpaw tilted her head at him, not quite catching his drift, and he swiped his tongue over his muzzle before continuing. “I mean-” he eyed her curiously. “You’re Fireheart’s kit.” Squirrelpaw bristled in preparation for a derogatory remark, but Dustpaw looked more thoughtful than he did cross. “Your… your dad probably wasn’t happy about that.”

“Neither are you, from the sound of it.” She replied coolly, still cautious. Dustpaw blustered.

“I- well.” He harrumphed after a moment of clearly having no idea what to say. “I guess I’m not. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but me and your dad don’t get along very well. So, I’m worried about the potential consequences of me mentoring his daughter in our future.”

“Or…” Squirrelpaw countered, tilting her head and drawing out the word to focus Dustpaw’s attention, “…maybe it’s a sign that your relationship gets better?” Dustpaw’s expression flickered with disgust, and Squirrelpaw restrained her urge to hit him with her paw, future mentor or not. Was it _that_ hard to imagine that they’d get along eventually?

“I-” Dustpaw hesitated. Squirrelpaw sighed.

“Come _on_ , Dustpaw. You’re… smart. Be the bigger cat. Do you _really_ hate my father? And if you do, why?”

“Well- I- because he’s a kittypet!” Meowed Dustpaw, with surprising force. His voice wavered a little, as though he wasn’t fully convinced of his own conviction, but he made the statement regardless. “He’s a kittypet, and he doesn’t belong here!”

Restraining herself from lashing out – because honestly, she was _very_ tempted, but she was also aware that after Darkstripe, it was probably a bad idea to attack any more members of ThunderClan – she instead turned her nose and head upwards and looked down on Dustpaw, trying to convey her disgust at him. Future mentor or not, she wasn’t going to humour him on this whole matter. Let him get past his prejudices by himself.

“Well, more fool you, then.” She mewed, trying to ignore the feeling of disappointment rising in her. This was a cat she _admired_ , young and immature and full of misdirected disdain. She didn’t want to see him like this. “Because he stays, like it or not. And he’ll be better than you-” _Better than you ever were_ , she wanted to say – if only to see his reaction, and not because she actually meant it – but couldn’t, because despite everything, this was still her mentor, and she still respected him too much, and it would be cruel to say something like that. “Better than you would have ever expected.”

Having said her piece, she stormed off without looking to see Dustpaw’s reaction, still holding her head high, feeling angry and frustrated and let down all at once. She couldn’t even blame Dustpaw, really – whoever the cat she’d known in the future had been, this obviously wasn’t him – but after how well her father had reacted, she’d foolishly assumed that every cat in the clan was going to react to her as well as him. That had been her mistake.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she paid no attention to where she was going – at least, not until she crashed into Yellowfang, who was watching her with an odd expression on her face.

“Oh- Yellowfang!” Her ears flattened against her head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” Yellowfang meowed, simply. “You were clearly upset.”

“You…” Squirrelpaw hesitated. “You saw that?”

“You’d be surprised what I see.” Replied Yellowfang, sounding almost pleased with herself, before indicating with her tail and beginning to pad over to the medicine den. “Come. Let’s talk in here.”

Squirrelpaw bounded after her, suddenly very curious. “Why?” She asked, before realising that elaborating. “I mean, what do you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Yellowfang sounded deceptively casual as she turned back to face Squirrelpaw. “It’s just curious, I suppose.”

“Curious?” Squirrelpaw tilted her head at Yellowfang. Yellowfang when I nodded.

“Yes. You see-” she paused, likely considering her words, for a moment before continuing: “Your words are your father’s. Your attitude and your hard-headed resistance, refusal to be pushed down…”

“I get the idea.” Squirrelpaw muttered, becoming self-conscious from all the praise. Yellowfang purred a little in response.

“Yes, well.” She continued. “You act a lot like your father. But physically, you actually remind me of another cat.”

Squirrelpaw stopped dead. Despite the potential dramatic repercussions of what she was saying, Yellowfang sounded a heartbeat away from laughter as she continued.

“A certain she-cat who always turns up her nose in that _exact_ way whenever she interacts with Fireheart. Whose eyes very much resemble yours, even if your pelt is a lot more like your father’s. Who, _apparently_ , you were quite happy to spend most of yesterday with, despite the animosity that exists between her and your father in this time.”

“I get it!” Squirrelpaw interrupted, trying to look anywhere other than the exceedingly smug Yellowfang. The unsaid question – of whether or not Yellowfang was right – hung in the air for a moment longer before Squirrelpaw bowed her head. “Fine. Sandpaw – well, in my time, she’s Sand _storm_ – is my mother.”

For a moment, silence. Then, a strange and alarming wheezing began to come from Yellowfang, who bowed her head and let her shoulders shake from the force of the noise. For a moment, Squirrelpaw was worried that the old medicine cat was choking on something, but then she raised her head, and it turned out that those wheezes were _laughter_.

“Oh-! Oh, this is too good!” She gasped between _mrrows_ of humour. “You can’t be serious!”

“Dead serious.” Squirrelpaw muttered, a little weirded out – she was still unused to the animosity between Sandpaw and Fireheart, and Yellowfang’s reaction to the idea that the two would get together didn’t help matters.

Yellowfang proceeded to cackle further. “StarClan knows-!” She managed to say. “Life has an irony to it, that’s for sure.”

It took several more moments for Yellowfang to recover. A curious cat – one Squirrelpaw didn’t recognise – poked their head into the medicine den to see what all the fuss was about, but Squirrelpaw waved them off with her tail.

“Right.” Yellowfang eventually was able to say in an even voice. “I had my suspicions, but I thought I’d find out for sure.”

"How did you even know that Sandpaw did that- that nose thing?" Squirrelpaw couldn't help but ask, squinting at her own nose as if it held all the answers. "Do you guys know each other?"

"No, we don't really interact." Yellowfang revealed. "But I keep an eye on Fireheart. So I picked it up from there."

“Right.” Squirrelpaw muttered. "Well, now you know."

“Yes, now I know.” Repeated Yellowfang, still sounding far too pleased with herself. Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but be impressed – she looked to be the only cat who had actually noticed so far. Then, she thought of something and turned to Yellowfang.

“Are you going to tell them?” She asked. Yellowfang looked confused for a moment, but then clarity dawned on her face as it became apparent what exactly Squirrelpaw was referring to. She shook her head briskly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She mewed; her voice still tinged with humour as though she was restraining herself from another laughing fit.

Squirrelpaw watched, and though to herself that out of all the legends and ghosts from her father’s time, who lived and died before she was even born, this was _definitely_ one cat that she wanted to get to know better.

-

On the first day after Squirrelpaw arrived in camp, Fireheart was accosted by Darkstripe, who approached him as he was trying to eat a mouse in peace, away from the curious stares of the rest of the clan. He’d tried to talk to Bluestar about Tigerclaw, but his leader hadn’t stopped to listen to him; she had cited being busy with other matters, and though Fireheart trusted that she knew what she was doing, he was still annoyed. He’d wanted to talk to her. Darkstripe, meanwhile, looked even more annoyed at Fireheart’s presence than normal – which, Fireheart realised as he compared all the times he and Darkstripe had interacted, was saying something.

“If your feral kit’s going to be staying here, you’d best keep her away from me, kittypet.” He hissed. His casual insult of Squirrelpaw left Fireheart indignant, and his own injuries had healed well enough from the battle with Brokenstar’s cats that he felt ready to fight; but held himself back. One insult was not enough to justifying starting a fight with any cat, even one as unlikable as Darkstripe.

Fireheart eyed the still-healing claw marks on Darkstripe’s shoulders with derision. “Afraid she’ll claw you again, Darkstripe?” he asked coolly. “I’m surprised you’re so wary around an _apprentice_.”

“I held back.” Darkstripe retorted. “It was for her own good that Tigerclaw and Greystripe stepped in; I daresay I would have hurt her otherwise.”

Fireheart forced himself, against his instincts, to remain in a reclining position instead of springing to his feet. However, he could feel his hackles raise in response to the threat.

“Harm one hair on her pelt,” he warned, “and it won’t be her you’ll have to fight first.”

Darkstripe sneered a final time before turning on his heel and stalking away across the camp, head held irritatingly high – as though he’d come out of the conversation as some kind of victor.

Fireheart made an attempt to return to the fresh-kill, but found that his appetite had waned.

-

The second day after Squirrelpaw had arrived in camp, she was paired up with Sandpaw, Longtail, and Whitestorm on a border patrol. Longtail didn’t even try to speak to her, probably still too busy worrying about what she had said about him being blind, which meant that the patrol was mostly spent trying to talk to Whitestorm while Sandpaw was busy unsubtly glaring at the two of them. Maybe some other cat would have been upset by Sandpaw’s behaviour, but Squirrelpaw found herself somewhere between amused and annoyed. Though she had no idea how it had happened, she hoped that her mother would stop hating her dad (and her) soon – but at the same time, it was surreal to compare the mother she knew with this petty apprentice.

“I’m glad to hear that ThunderClan is doing well in the future.” Whitestorm mused, as he hopped up onto Sunningrocks to scan the terrain. After taking a moment to observe Sunningrocks as it was, comparing it to the memory of how it had become the Clan’s last holdout in the face of the twolegs, Squirrelpaw hopped up beside him.

 Her fairly abrupt ending to her storytelling that evening had meant that she hadn’t gone into detail about the fact that the clan was suffering in the forest with nothing to eat, but that had been mostly purposeful on her part. Neither had she mentioned that Midnight’s message had been that the clans had had to leave the forest – keeping in mind how extraordinary that would have sounded to cats from this time, she had referred to what Midnight had told them only as “the message” and had refused to go into any more detail than that. She was almost guilty – it felt a bit like lying, even though she had technically told nothing but the truth.

“I just hope that the clans will listen to our message.” She revealed. Whitestorm looked at her quizzically.

“If it’s from StarClan, they ought to.” He observed. “What has you so worried?”

“I just…” Squirrelpaw sighed. “When we got back, a lot of the clan wasn’t happy to hear it. I don’t think they realised what we’d been through – they just thought that me and Brambleclaw had… gallivanted off, or something. I still don’t think that some of them are convinced.”

Whitestorm hummed acknowledgement, but gave no immediate answer.

“That sounds frustrating.” He offered. She shrugged as she hopped off of Sunningrocks, ready to continue the patrol.

“We’ve been working on it.” She explained. “But it’s slow going, and we’ve been warned about danger – I don’t know how much more time we have left. And the solution we have to offer to the clan… they don’t like it.” She sighed. “Sorry. It’s just- my mind’s been on it a lot lately. And once I get back to my time, I’ll have to deal with it again.”

“Perhaps you need someone to discuss it with.” Whitestorm suggested. “You don’t have to describe this danger to the whole clan, but find someone you trust. Perhaps your father.”

Though Squirrelpaw was tempted by the idea – she missed her father’s wisdom – she forced herself away from the idea.

“Probably not him.” She confessed. “He- he won’t have the experience that I’m used to, and…” she struggled to remember. Her father obviously hadn’t been extremely specific whenever he’d told her stories about his time as a warrior, but one thing had been quite clear to her. “I think he’s got enough problems to deal with already.”

Whitestorm looked a bit surprised at her reasoning, but didn’t press the matter with her. “If you’re sure.” He meowed evenly. “Though you might be surprised; you _are_ his daughter. I’m sure he’d be willing to make time for you.”

Squirrelpaw nodded in acknowledgement (though, she’d decided, she still had no intention of talking to her father about it), and the patrol continued.

-

On the third day after Squirrelpaw had arrived, Fireheart had wearily ventured into Yellowfang’s den so that she could make sure that his injuries were properly healed. His flanks twinged as he remembered how he’d grappled with Brokenstar, the old ShadowClan leader. Hopefully, he recalled as he stepped through the entrance, Nightpelt was in the process of reconstructing ShadowClan and pointing it onto a nobler path.

Hopefully.

Yellowfang, who had been sniffing through her supplies, turned to face him as he entered.

“Ah, Fireheart!” She greeted. “You’ll want your wounds checked, then.”

“Just quickly, if that’s okay.” Fireheart replied. “Tigerclaw wants me on patrol.”

Yellowfang shook her head in distaste. “He’s working you too hard.” She told him. “In two days, you helped reshape ShadowClan, were made a warrior, and had your daughter from the future barrel out of the forest. A cat needs time to recover from all of that!” She paused, and then added: “I presume, anyway. Not as though I’ve been through that myself.”

Fireheart was buoyed by Yellowfang’s words – as snappily as they were delivered, he could pick up on a certain warmth underneath them that he liked to think was directed at him.

“Thank you, Yellowfang.” He meowed. Yellowfang made a noise of disdain in response. He’d expect nothing less from the prickly old ThunderClan medicine cat.

“Let’s not think about that right now.” She sighed as she wormed her way across the den and began to look over his wounds, peering intensely at the scratches with her beady yellow eyes. “Let’s talk about more positive things.”

“That’s unlike you.” Fireheart remarked. Yellowfang hissed quickly.

“Don’t get used to it.” She snapped, sounding for a moment like the outcast cat he’d run into on ThunderClan territory moons ago. But that sharpness quickly faded for something softer and warmer. “But it’s not every day a cat’s kin rockets out of the future and into their lives… and how _is_ Squirrelpaw doing?”

“Oh, um, she’s doing well.” Fireheart answered.

Yellowfang hummed noncommittedly. “She’s an interesting cat. I hope I’ll be able to get to know her at some point.” Her words were purposefully light and airy – Fireheart had a suspicion that she was holding something back, which was very much unlike her.

“I’m sure I can introduce you.” He replied, before venturing: “Yellowfang, is there a reason you wanted to talk about Squirrelpaw all of a sudden?”

“A cat can’t just be curious about another cat’s future offspring?” Yellowfang sounded genuinely offended, and Fireheart momentarily regretting breaching the conversation in such a way. He pressed on, however.

“Not this cat.” He pointed out. “I think there’s something you want to say.”

Yellowfang sighed, drawing back from the wound she’d been examining and turning to face him directly. “Well, you’re not wrong.” She admitted, before turning and looking around at the medicine den. “It’s just something that’s been on my mind, and I was wondering how you’d react.”

“Oh?” Fireheart couldn’t keep the surprise out of his mew. What would have Yellowfang, of all cats, so pensive? “Yellowfang, you can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you. I’ll be fine.”

“…Okay.” Yellowfang nodded. “Well, I came to a conclusion not long after Squirrelpaw arrived…” She faced him again – too late, he noticed the mischief in her yellow eyes. “If you have kits in the future, then that means you have a mate, as well.”

“Mate?” Fireheart stumbled backwards as Yellowfang began to cackle, and his own fur began to heat up. “You don’t- I mean, you- how do you know there’s a mate?”

It was a nonsensical counter, and he regretted it the second he’d said it. Yellowfang rolled her eyes, even while she was still laughing.

“Oh, my mistake, Fireheart.” She snarked as she pulled herself together. “Cats are like plants, and spring out of the ground every newleaf- of _course_ there’s going to be a mate, you mouse-brain!”

“That’s not-!” Fireheart tried to protest, but he’d been taken so unawares by Yellowfang’s train of though (was she _teasing_ him?) that the words struggled to fit together in his mouth. “Well, I- I guess you’re right.”

“I’m completely right.” Retorted Yellowfang. “The real question is: do you know _who_ it is?”

Fireheart began to fiercely wish that he had the ability to sink through the floor and escape the conversation.

“Ah, so you _haven’t_ asked Squirrelpaw who her mother is?” Yellowfang prompted, her tail swishing from side to side behind her. Fireheart wasn’t sure if he’d seen her so earnestly excited before (not that that was saying much). “Not curious at all?”

“Not at all!” Fireheart lied.

Yellowfang didn’t look like she believed him. There was a glint in her eye, as well, like she knew something that he didn’t – although that might have just been her enjoying watching him squirm. He tried to think of a way to deflect the conversation, but at that moment, he was saved by Runningwind, who hobbled into the medicine den without using one of his hind legs.

“Hi, Yellowfang.” He breathed, nodding cursorily at Fireheart before re-addressing the medicine cat. “I think I twisted my leg while I was out hunting – I was jumping off of Sunningrocks and I think I landed wrong. Is there anything you can do?”

“For your carelessness? No. For your leg? Probably.” Yellowfang padded over and began to inspect the limb, nodding to herself before indicating with her tail for Runningwind to come further into the den. As he limped past, she turned back to Fireheart.

“Your scratches are fine.” She told him. “But tell Tigerclaw what I told you: he’s working you too hard, with the stress you’ve been through.”

“Sure thing, Yellowfang.” Fireheart meowed dispassionately; he had little faith that Tigerclaw would actually treat him any better, even if it was at the behest of ThunderClan’s medicine cat. “See you later?”

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Yellowfang quipped, before returning her attention to her newest patient. Endeared, Fireheart walked out of the medicine den, trying his best to _not_ think about Squirrelpaw’s mother, and who she would be – and failing rather miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellowfang: "Fireheart, you've got a (sand) storm coming."  
> Fireheart: "?"  
> Yellowfang: "...probably literally."  
> Fireheart: "??????"


	8. The one where Fireheart has a bit of a think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's on the shorter side but THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A-LEVELS I GUESS

**8**

The day after Fireheart’s conversation with Yellowfang, he had come no closer to ridding from his mind his newly-acknowledged curiosity about Squirrelpaw’s mother. When Bluestar approached him, he perked up, eager to have a distraction – as well as a chance to finally tell her about his Tigerclaw-related suspicions.

“Fireheart.” She nodded to him, briefly. “Are you well?”

“I’m good. Thank you, Bluestar.” He nodded back at his old mentor. When Bluestar said nothing else to him, he spoke up: “…Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Nothing very pressing.” Bluestar assured him. “It’s more of a point of administration than anything else.”

“Then why come to me at all?” Fireheart asked. The follow-up question, “why not Tigerclaw”, went unsaid. His pelt burned to speak to Bluestar about her deputy’s treachery, but he reminded himself that it was unlikely that Bluestar would take kindly to him derailing the conversation in favour of condemning a trusted member of ThunderClan, and forced himself to hold his tongue.

“Because it concerns Squirrelpaw.” Bluestar explained. “Since she’s an apprentice, and technically new to the clan – not new to ThunderClan, perse, but this point in its time – I’ve been considering assigning her to a warrior to act as a mentor while she stays with us.” Fireheart must have looked confused, because Bluestar glanced back and him and then continued almost as if she were trying to justify herself to him. “I don’t believe that she needs any additional training, but I thought it would be best to assign her a cat to whom she can answer to. That, and…” she trailed off as though she were not quite sure what to say. “I wanted to ask you whether or not you’d think it’d benefit her. You’re her father, you’ve spent the most time with her so far. Do you think that would be a good idea?”

Humbled that Bluestar was asking for his voice on the issue, Fireheart gave his answer some thought – but after a moment or two, it became fairly obvious.

“I think it’d be alright.” He meowed. “Like you said, she’s an apprentice, so she’ll probably need someone to… to be a mentor.”

“Even though she’s apparently spent over a moon independent, away from the clans?” Bluestar asked with a gleam in her eyes. Fireheart suddenly felt as though he were being assessed in some way – though for what quality, he had no idea.

“Well- I- Then yes. That just makes it more important.” He realised. “If she has a duty to the forest-” (he’d gotten an abridged version of her story from her later) “-then it’d probably be helpful if she was able to get back into a regular routine, in terms of clan dynamics. That way she wouldn’t have to spend time adjusting once she returns to her time.” He hesitated. “Am I wrong?”

“No.” Bluestar mewed. Her eyes and expression were pensive. “And what of her nature? I’ve met apprentices like Squirrelpaw before, with strong personality. They rarely take kindly to being restricted by mentors.”

Fireheart suddenly remembered something else. “Well, she- well, I mean- we talked about her being mentored by Dustpaw the other day, and she _did_ defend him. Said that she’d learnt a lot from him. So, she can’t necessarily hate being mentored, right?”

Bluestar nodded. “So long as she doesn’t perceive it as us trying to replace her old mentor – her version of Dustpaw. I won’t have him do it in this time, obviously,” she added, as Fireheart opened his mouth, “aside from his comparative inexperience, an apprentice can’t mentor another apprentice.”

“That makes sense.” Fireheart told Bluestar. She looked to him – with eyes full of pity.

“I cannot let you mentor her either, Fireheart.” She sounded apologetic. “As of now, you’re still just too inexperienced a warrior.”

Fireheart, who hadn’t expected to be given the opportunity in the first place, took little offence, and instead dipped his head low in deference to his leader. “It’s fine, Bluestar.” He said, before curiosity overtook him. “Then, who do you have in mind-?”

Bluestar shrugged her shoulders. “I intend to give it some thought, and make the announcement later today.” She revealed.

“Alright.” He mewed. It sounded fair to him. “I trust your judgement, Bluestar.”

“Thank you, Fireheart.” Replied Bluestar. She looked as though she were about to say something else to him, but Tigerclaw interrupted.

“Bluestar!” He beckoned her over with a flick of his tail. A bolt of paranoia shot through Fireheart – what did he want with her? What was he planning? – before he realised that Tigerclaw would not likely be as bold as to attempt something in front of all the camp. He forced the fur on the back of his neck to lie back down.

“I must go.” She told him, a thoughtful expression on her face, before turning abruptly and padding away, leaving Fireheart frustrated that, once again, he hadn’t been able to confess to her his worries. His mind and heart both churned with concern. How could he approach Bluestar with the news that Tigerclaw was not all that he seemed to be?

A bolt of inspiration hit him.

_Squirrelpaw_.

-

“You want me to-?” Squirrelpaw trailed off, swallowing the mouthful of thrush and blinking at her father, who stood over her with an eagerness on his face she couldn’t remember ever seeing on either version of him.

“Tell me about the past- your past, my future!” He elaborated. “If you tell me what Tigerclaw does, and how things play out the first time, it’ll be the biggest help I can ask for.” He looked like he was almost bouncing on his haunches, and the energy was infectious – she felt an urge to spring to her feet herself and, had she not remembered the details of her position in time, she surely would have. As it was, however, the knowledge kept her rooted to the ground out of frustration and guilt.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” Squirrelpaw apologized. “I…. well, I’m not sure if I can help.”

Her father stared at her in abject surprise.

“Look; you want me to help you convince Bluestar that Tigerclaw’s up to no good?” She asked, for clarification. He nodded, and she hung her head in response.

“I just thought-” Her father didn’t appear to have been expecting her to refuse, and his words faltered as he tried to get them out. “Since you’re from the future…”

Squirrelpaw’s tail swished in displeasure. “It’s not that I wouldn’t _want_ to help.” She clarified. “But, for one thing, Tiger- Tigerclaw, he was…” she struggled to find the right phrasing, suddenly feeling the weight of what she was trying to explain, “he was before my time. I couldn’t actually tell you that much.”

She saw her father’s eyes widen at this revelation. She decided to press on before he could read too much into those words.

“And even if I remembered: I told you I was visited by StarClan before I was sent back to the past.” She explained. He nodded; she continued. “The cat who visited told me that I cannot change the future.” She looked down, too bothered to meet her father’s eyes. “She said that no matter what action I take, the future will remain as it is when I return.”

“The future… won’t change?” Fireheart echoed. She still didn’t look up at him.

“I- no.” She confessed. “Nothing I do is going to change how things play out.”

A moment passed of silence; uneasy, Squirrelpaw finally garnered the courage to turn her gaze back on her father. He looked distracted and dismayed, his deep green eyes wide, and his still jarringly scar-less muzzle twitched.

“So…” He trailed off, but the intent of his words were clear. Squirrelpaw could only nod.

“It won’t matter what I tell you, anyway. It won’t matter. I don’t know how it works – if, as soon as I go back, I get forgotten, or what – but it won’t make a difference in the long run.”

Fireheart sighed. She lashed her tail in the dirt once, in frustration, before standing up to face him, suddenly feeling very afraid. Afraid of, peculiarly enough, what he’d say. How he’d react. Maybe there were a lot less memories, and a lot less experience, but this was still her father. And she’d let him down.

“Okay.” And he sounded so _tired_ in that moment, she looked up at him in shock and nostalgia. He looked- he glanced to her with an apologetic expression. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I’m not upset at you. I just… I’ve been worrying about Bluestar and Tigerclaw for days and when I had that idea I thought I would be able to solve everything so easily, and I suppose I just got my hopes up.”  He brushed his tail along her flank comfortingly. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault, not yours.”

For maybe the thousandth time since she’d been sent back in time, Squirrelpaw thanked StarClan that she had such an amazing cat for a father.

“I’m just sorry I can’t help.”

-

“Let all the cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the highrock for a clan meeting!”

Fireheart glanced idly up at Bluestar as she leapt on top of the highrock, already aware of what the clan meeting was about. Beside him, Greystripe sat down and ran his tongue over his muzzle.

“Know anything?” He asked.

Fireheart shrugged. “Bluestar said she wanted to assign Squirrelpaw to a mentor. For appearances, if nothing else.”

Greystripe glanced at him with an odd expression. “It’s not you, then?”

“Greystripe, we’ve only been warriors for a few days.” Fireheart reminded him, before turning his attention back up to Bluestar, only half-paying attention to what she was saying. “I’d definitely enjoy mentoring being assigned to Squirrelpaw, but I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Makes sense.” Greystripe conceded. The two were quiet for a moment, and then Greystripe began again: “So who do you think-” He was cut off by a hiss from Sandpaw.

“Quiet, you mouse-brain!” She spat him. “I can’t hear what Bluestar’s saying while the pair of you are nattering away like elders.”

“That’s not fair!” Greystripe retorted. “We’re nowhere _near_ as talkative as-”

This time, it was Fireheart who quietened him, glancing at both Greystripe and Sandpaw, both of whom begrudgingly let the conversation drop. As much as it pained him to admit it, Sandpaw had a point – and Fireheart was interested in hearing as well as seeing his daughter’s ceremony.

As it stood, Squirrelpaw had just stood to attention at the base of the rock, eyes on Bluestar and looking so intent that she hardly seemed to resemble herself at all. Despite her small stature, she looked very much like a full-fledged warrior, standing to attention and awaiting her orders, and it caused something of an ache in Fireheart’s chest. He’d heard the stories, of course – how she’d been away from the clans, how she’d faced death numerous times – but it was seeing her act in such a manner that emphasised to him that she was far from any apprentice. He couldn’t help but feel regretful; responsible, even. What kind of father was he, if one of his kits had grown up so quickly, and he hadn’t been there to help her through it?

He forced his internal struggle down as Bluestar spoke:

“…until she returns to her own time, ThunderClan welcomes her as one of its apprentices. She will be provided with a stand-in mentor, to oversee her through her time in the clan as we know it.” Bluestar hesitated, looked over the heads of her clan, pausing as she often did when making her announcements to consider her words. Eventually, she spoke again:

“This duty will be carried out by Tigerclaw.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart: "I trust your judgement, Bluestar."  
> Bluestar: *assigns Tigerclaw to mentor Squirrelpaw*  
> Curb Your Enthusiasm theme: *starts playing*


	9. The one where Squirrelpaw finds herself in a tricky situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I didn't plan on another chapter but then my brain decided that the best thing to do 2 days before exams started back up was shift into Warrior Cats mode, so... *yeet*
> 
> (Also, chapters ought to get a bit longer once them exams are finished. Right now I'm just getting what I can out before I get dragged back into the maelstrom of academia xDD)

**9**

_“Tigerclaw.”_

_“Bluestar.” Tigerclaw turned around to greet his leader as she padded towards him. “Is something the matter?”_

_“That’s too strong a phrase.” She told him. “But I did want to ask you about something.” Her eyes flickered up to her den._

_Tigerclaw dipped his head in deference – she was still his leader, for now. “Of course.” He tried his best to give his voice a smooth quality, and to make himself sound like a helpful open ear. Still keeping his gaze on Bluestar, he began to turn and walk towards the den at the top of the camp. She followed him at a brisk pace._

_“I’ve decided to assign a cat to oversee Squirrelpaw while she stays in ThunderClan.” Bluestar revealed, as the two cats padded under the highrock and stepped through the lichen curtain. “They won’t act as a proper mentor to her – I don’t want to replace her old mentor, and it’s clear that she barely needs any more training at all – but rather, as someone to make sure that she settles in well, and someone for her to report to. I believe it might help both her and the rest of the clan to see the situation as a little less abnormal; and, despite appearances, she may yet have something to learn.”_

_Tigerclaw did not reply instantly. As Bluestar had been talking, an idea had formed in his head. This was almost_ definitely _an ideal opportunity. There would be no better opening to approach that apprentice, and ask her about the future – force the answers out of her, if necessary – if he had such an excuse to keep her company. If he could just convince Bluestar…_

_“Who did you have in mind?” He asked, not wanting to start off overly-assertive. Better let her have the idea herself, organically, rather than make it look like he wanted to spend so much potential time in the company of Fireheart’s whelp._

_“No cat for sure.” Bluestar confessed. “Whitestorm already has an apprentice, Darkstripe wouldn’t co-operate with her following their meeting, I need to focus on leading the clan now that Fireheart’s a warrior…” She trailed off, and glanced up at Tigerclaw. It was hidden behind the firm mask that she always wore, but there was an underlying question in her gaze._

_Tigerclaw shifted his weight, trying to make himself look as though he’d just caught on. “I suppose, I could if you wanted me to.” He meowed, forcing a modicum of hesitation into his tone before making a show of clearing his throat. “I mean- yes. I could do it.”_

_“It’s true, with the loss of Ravenpaw, you no longer have an apprentice either…” Bluestar mused. “But, Tigerclaw, you take a very firm approach when it comes to apprentices. I don’t think that’s something Squirrelpaw would appreciate.”_

_“Like you said, Bluestar,” Tigerclaw assured her, ensuring that she wouldn’t stray away from the idea, “this wouldn’t be a proper apprenticeship. Besides, she mistook me for someone else when the first arrived – perhaps there is a connection between myself and someone she knows in the future that could help make her feel more comfortable in the clan.”_

_Bluestar was considering Tigerclaw’s words seriously now. He could tell._

_“There is- well, you and Fireheart aren’t close.” She observed. “You would really do this for his kit?”_

_For a moment, Tigerclaw felt a wave of panic, imagining that Bluestar had picked up on the unlikeliness of his offer. But he forced his hackles to lie flat. Bluestar suspected nothing. Nothing. He forced the brief wave of paranoia out of his mind. He had no ulterior motives. He was just a concerned deputy doing the best he could do for his clanmates, even one as estranged as this. That was all._

_“This isn’t personal. Either way.” Tigerclaw replied. “I’m just doing what is best for the clan.”_

_Bluestar’s face softened. He’d convinced her._

_“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” She murmured. Her gaze was soft, absent-minded. For a moment, the thought of killing her right there struck him, but he quickly suppressed it – even assuming he could kill her quietly, he’d never get away with it. No, he had to be patient._

_“If you say so, Bluestar.” He meowed unemotively. Bluestar nodded, still with that faraway look in her eyes._

_“I trust you, Tigerclaw.” She told him. And that was her mistake, wasn’t it? Tigerclaw observed her, this leader who was in some ways, so strong, and yet in others, so very weak. She just couldn’t be… objective about anything. Whether it was letting a useless kittypet into the clan, or picking warriors based on her trust in them over their own capabilities. ThunderClan was weakening, and it was her soft-heartedness that was the cause of it. Of that, he was certain._

_Still._

_If it helped him achieve his goals, then he could overlook it for now._

_“If you’re sure?” She asked him._

_“I’m sure.” He assured her. She nodded._

_“Then I’ll make the announcement later today.” She assured him back._

-

Squirrelpaw felt her blood turn to ice in her veins as Tigerclaw slowly padded up to her. She’d seen bigger cats, of course – Sharptooth sprang to mind – but his steps were slow, calculated. His massive front paws came to a halt in front of her, and she warily looked up to see his bright amber eyes glimmering with what was unmistakably triumph. It hit her, suddenly and all at once, like a physical blow: he’d wanted this. Whether he’d just hoped for it, or he’d actually made it happen, he’d intendent to get assigned to Squirrelpaw. And that knowledge sent a chill down her spine, even as she forced herself to step forward and touch her nose to his, which was bent low to reach her height.

Looking back up at him, he still looked every bit the twisted, inverted version of Brambleclaw that he’d always looked. And she was beginning to hate him for it.

He said nothing to her as Bluestar finished talking, and as the surrounding cats cheered. She said nothing, either – she almost felt as though she was lost for words, as unlikely as it was. (And she was never going to admit it to anyone, if that _was_ the case.) She couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time since arriving in the past, she was in real danger. And as she spared another glance at Tigerclaw, who was now looking stonily out over ThunderClan and betraying none of the satisfaction she’d sensed a moment ago, there was little doubt in her mind as to exactly where that danger would come from.

He suddenly turned to her.

“See you tomorrow.” He meowed, evenly, before turning and beginning to stalk away.

-

This was bad. This was bad. This was _bad_.

Fireheart found himself scrambling across the clearing towards Squirrelpaw as soon as the rest of the clan dispersed to continue going about their respective evenings. Greystripe was hot on his heels; out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sandpaw standing a little way away, next to Dustpaw, very obviously eying them. He pushed that concern from his mind, however – there were more important things to worry about.

“Squirrelpaw!” He gasped, as he skidded to a halt in front of her. Greystripe crashed into his flank from the abrupt stop, but he ignored his friend in favour of surveying his daughter. She was still standing tall, but there was a wary look in her eyes. Though he’d thought she’d looked like a warrior just a moment previously, she suddenly looked so much more vulnerable, and he was hit with an urge to wrap himself around her and never let her go. He shook away the temptation – if nothing else, she probably wouldn’t appreciate it – and instead tried to calm himself down.

“He wanted this.” Squirrelpaw muttered darkly. With that sentence, Fireheart’s attempt at calm might as well have been snatched up by a hawk.

“What do you mean?” Greystripe asked. Fireheart was grateful – he wasn’t sure that he could trust the words to come.

“I could see it in his eyes.” Squirrelpaw explained. “I think… I think he wanted this to happen. I don’t know if he talked to Bluestar and got her to choose him, or if it was just luck, but this is something he wants.” Her ears, previously flattened against her skull, rose a little as she looked up at him. “Father.” She meowed. “Tigerclaw… he’s a schemer, isn’t he? A cat who stands back and lets other cats do his dirty work.”

Fireheart blinked for a moment, silent, before remembering himself and his voice. “I wouldn’t know about letting other cats do his dirty work.” He admitted, remembering Ravenpaw’s account of Redtail’s death. Tigerclaw had apparently murdered ThunderClan’s own deputy with his own paws. The image sent a chill through him. “But you’re right. He murdered Redtail for a reason – he has to have some kind of plan.”

“Why do you ask?” Greystripe interjected.

Squirrelpaw looked as though she were about to say something, but Fireheart interrupted her as he was hit with a realisation. “The future…” He breathed.

Squirrelpaw and Greystripe exchanged glances – Squirrelpaw resigned, Greystripe fearful – before Greystripe addressed turned to him. “What do mean, “the future”?” He asked, panic beginning to lace his mew.

“I mean, he’s obviously had the same idea that I had earlier today.” Fireheart breathed, flicking an ear towards Squirrelpaw – she nodded in understanding. “About Squirrelpaw’s knowledge of the future. About how helpful it could be. He must have decided to manoeuvre you into a position from which he can question you about the future.”

“But it _can’t_ be helpful!” Whined Squirrelpaw. “Like I told you, I don’t remember the details of what happened in this time – I wasn’t born! And I can’t change the future!”

“But he doesn’t know that!” Fireheart hissed, lowering his voice at the sudden fear that they were being overheard. He spared a glance to their surroundings. No cat was listening in. Even Sandpaw was nowhere to be seen.

“What if you told him?” Suggested Greystripe, sounding almost dazed. The underlying fear and disbelief that he’d demonstrated when Ravenpaw had told them the truth about Redtail’s death was re-emerging.

“Do _you_ want to waltz up to him and tell him, “oh yes, we know you wanted this, only it’s not exactly going to be helpful in the long run, because it turns out that Squirrelpaw’ future knowledge won’t actually change anything”?” Squirrelpaw spat. “Because I don’t.”

The hairs on the back of Greystripe’s neck rose. “Keep your fur on!” He retorted. “It was only a suggestion.”

“So, what _do_ we do?” Asked Fireheart, cutting in before Squirrelpaw and Greystripe could get into an actual argument. “We can’t be sure how he’d react – and that goes double for if we confront him directly and say that we know about his plans.”

“…Could you make something up?” Greystripe posited to Squirrelpaw. “Give him information about the future that’s wrong, but is enough to keep him satisfied until you… go back?”

Squirrelpaw thought the suggestion through. “I could give it a try.” She admitted. “Yeah, yeah- I can come up with something.” Her ears rose, and then fell again in sudden dismay. “But I have no idea how long I’m supposed to be here _for_.”

Greystripe met Fireheart’s concerned gaze with one of equal worry, before awkwardly sidling up to Squirrelpaw in his best attempt at comforting her.

“Well, we can tackle that problem when it comes around.” He pointed out. “There’s not a lot we can do about it _now_ , so let’s… let’s just make the best of our situation, alright?”

Squirrelpaw nodded, but Fireheart could see that she was still unhappy. He brushed up against her.

“Come on.” He mewed. “Let’s get something from the fresh-kill pile, and we can start coming up with things for you to say to Tigerclaw. Does that sound like a plan?”

Squirrelpaw ran her tongue over her muzzle.

“Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tigerclaw: "Tell me about the future."  
> Squirrelpaw: "You are executed by RiverClan elders about three weeks from now."  
> Tigerclaw: "RiverClan ELDERS?!"  
> Squirrelpaw: "Yeah they gum off all your limbs LMAO"


	10. The one where Squirrelpaw tells a surprising amount of truth and Sandpaw has an epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *gets 1 day off in the midst of exams*  
> Me: "Okay, so I can do anything with this one day, yea?"  
> My brain:  
> Me:  
> My brain: *WARRIOR CATS MODE*
> 
> [this chapter is about as long as the last two combined. I don't know why I'm like this either]

**10**

When Squirrelpaw awoke the next morning, it was to Sandpaw nudging her ungently.

“Tigerclaw wants you.” She meowed, simply, upon seeing that Squirrelpaw was awake. Before Squirrelpaw could reply, she turned tail and slid back out of the apprentice’s den without a second glance. Squirrelpaw blinked at where her to-be mother had been standing a moment previously, and then let her head sink back into her nest with a sigh of contempt. So, he was that eager, was he?

She’d be sure to leave him as dissatisfied with her answers as possible (within reason).

She, her father, and Greystripe had discussed the issue the previous night, in about as much length as they had been able to afford. Fireheart and Greystripe had both agreed that she needed to tell lies that were believable, possibly even based off of truth. (Though they knew that Squirrelpaw’s visit apparently _wouldn’t_ affect the future, none of them had felt especially comfortable with outright telling Tigerclaw anything.) They’d worked on preparing some lies in advance (if he were to ask her who was leading ThunderClan in the future, she was planning on telling her “Brackenstar”, because that was a name he wouldn’t recognise for a little while longer), and eventually conceded that the best possible course of action was to trust in Squirrelpaw’s improvisation. It wasn’t as though they could really predict what questions Tigerclaw would ask.

Squirrelpaw, personally, had been all for giving Tigerclaw the most nonsensical and dissatisfying answers possible (telling him, for instance, that he’d been killed in a dispute over a fish with a RiverClan elder), but Fireheart and Greystripe had both balked at the idea, insisting that he wouldn’t believe her, and Greystripe had had to convince her father that Tigerclaw wouldn’t outright attack her for saying something so ridiculous. Squirrelpaw was still half-tempted (out of spite, if nothing else), but at the end of the day, self-preservation won through. Tigerclaw was nothing if not physically imposing, and the thought of those huge claws tearing right through her was enough to temper her.

Standing up and giving herself a shake, she dragged herself through the entrance of the apprentices’ den, resisting the urge to turn back and sleep some more when she saw Tigerclaw standing right in the centre of the camp, staring blankly at her. He indicated with his tail – she hesitantly began making her way towards him.

 _Of all cats_ , she wondered, _why did_ I _have to get sent back in time?_ For that matter, why did she have to get sent back by herself? Having the elder version of her father here would have made life much easier – with his wisdom and experience, he could have handled the entire situation with grace she feared that she’d always lack. Or her sister, Leafpaw – her sister’s soothing presence and wisdom would have been a big help too. (Thinking of her sister made her think of their connection, and her ears drooped a little as she recalled how she’d felt nothing of their connection since arriving in the past. In some way, it was to be expected, but it still hurt.) Or even Brambleclaw – if nothing else, he’d have been a comforting presence, seeing as how she’d grown used to spending time with him over the course of their journey. For that matter, _any_ of the other journey cats would have bene a welcome sight – but, of course, none of them had even been born yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that most of the camp was going about their day-to-day activities, already awake. She spied Sandpaw shoot her an indiscernible look, and made what she hoped was a noncommittal motion with her shoulders in response. Her father and Greystripe were nowhere to be seen – perhaps they’d already been sent on patrol? She couldn’t say for sure. As she came to a halt in front of Tigerclaw (who was still just watching her menacingly), she spied Yellowfang peering at them from out of the medicine den. The elder cat nodded slowly, and Squirrelpaw found herself buoyed.

“Good morning.” She ventured. The ThunderClan deputy’s gaze became a little disdainful.

“We should get started.” He replied.

“Started with what?” Asked Squirrelpaw, suspicious. “You heard what Bluestar said; we’re not properly mentor and apprentice.”

“We should still patrol together.” Responded Tigerclaw evenly. “Become more acquainted with each other so interaction in the future ought to be easier.” He looked away, and when he turned back, his expression was startlingly less hardened. She was hit with a pang in her chest – he looked _so_ much like Brambleclaw.

“I think we both know that there’s no love lost between myself and your father.” He continued, smoothly. “Still – that is no reason for us to not be able to get along.”

For a moment, Squirrelpaw was thrown through a loop, wondering who this stranger what and what he had done with the evil incarnate that was Tigerstar(claw). But then she realised that it was most likely an act – that he wanted them to be closer in the hop that she would let information about the future slip. Either that, or he was just hoping to lull her into a false sense of security so he could… she wasn’t even sure. Use her to threaten her father? Tear her neck out and leave her in the forest? She didn’t know, and she didn’t _want_ to know.

“That sounds fair.” She responded, evenly. “Even if we don’t like each other, we can still be… civil about it.” Part of her was tempted to appear as unthreatening as possible, but then she remembered how she’d initially stared him down when they’d first met, and realised that it was unlikely that he would be fooled by that. Oh, well.

Pretending to be weaker than she was was demeaning, anyway.

Tigerclaw nodded, looking approving. She decided that she never wanted to see him make that face again.

“Exactly.” He agreed.

The two stood for a moment in silence, before Tigerclaw shook himself and turned slightly towards the entrance. “We should go hunting, once the morning patrol returns.” He meowed evenly. “I’ll gather up some other cats.”

Squirrelpaw, who’d tensed up at his suggestion, allowed herself to breathe a little. Hopefully, other cats being with them would mean that he wouldn’t focus all of his energies on her right away. Which was good. The last thing she wanted was his full attention.

“Though, there is something I’m curious about, if you don’t mind-”

Oh no.

“It’s fine!” Squirrelpaw said, almost cutting him off completely. “Ask away.”

Tigerclaw’s tail waved non-committedly.

“It’s just a question about the future.” He still sounded very calm – almost soothing. “Something you said a while ago.”

“Oh, well…” Squirrelpaw fumbled for an answer, eventually settling on: “Well, I _did_ tell that story to everyone during my first day in camp. Did that not answer your questions?” She was, in fact, fully aware that Tigerclaw had been patrolling as much as possible that day, presumably unhappy with her demeanour, presence, and overall existence.

“When we first met.” Tigerclaw pressed on, ignoring Squirrelpaw’s latest statement. “You called me “Brambleclaw”. I’m curious as to who that is supposed to be.”

It was unfortunate, really, that Brambleclaw and Tigerclaw had all the connections that they did – now that she personally knew both of them, she could say that lowering Brambleclaw to Tigerclaw’s level seemed almost fundamentally wrong, and certainly extremely unfair. Still; she had to say _something_. Tigerclaw’s gaze was expectant, and in the background, she could just make out Yellowfang wearily watching the two of them talk.

“He’s…” she decided, after a moment’s hesitation, that the truth was the best option in this instance. “He’s your kit.” She explained.

Tigerclaw nodded solemnly. He looked… almost smug.

And then, Squirrelpaw had an idea.

“Yes, he’s one of- one of your _many_ kits.” She kept speaking. “Some days, it feels as though I can barely look around without running into your kin.”

The smug expression faded from Tigerclaw’s maw – clearly, whatever his plan was, multiple kits was not part of it. Yellowfang’s ears had perked up in the background. Squirrelpaw kept going.

“You’ve got kits in three different clans, you know.” She revealed – and she hadn’t even lying. Though she wasn’t sure if she’d met them in person, she’d heard about RiverClan’s “Hawkice” and… Moth-something or other. “Honestly I don’t know how it happened – I wasn’t there. Obviously.” She forced out a giggle. “But it _is_ remarkable, when you think about it. Certainly, no other cat I know ended up with kin in three different clans.”

A bark of laughter shot out of Yellowfang, that quickly turned into a feigned cough. Tigerclaw didn’t say anything – he looked to be struck dumb. After a moment, Squirrelpaw wondered if it would be best to just abandon the conversation entirely, but then he seemed to come back to live, and glowered menacingly at her.

“You’re lying.” He said. She almost couldn’t blame him – it certainly _sounded_ ridiculous.

“Believe what you want.” She shrugged, trying to remain coy. “But that’s the truth of it.” Tigerclaw said nothing else, evidently baffled, and Squirrelpaw took the opportunity to pad past him and make for the entrance. “I’ll just wait here for the patrol!” She said. “See you then!”

She and Yellowfang caught each other’s eye as she headed for the entrance. Yellowfang gave her a satisfied nod. Squirrelpaw puffed her chest out as she walked, holding her head up high.

She could do this.

-

The setting of the sun promised a full moon, and a consequentially a gathering, and Sandpaw was definitely looking forward to it.

Considering the weirdness that Fireheart’s wayward kit had brought to the clan over the past several days, the prospect of something more routine and familiar was highly appealing. Beyond that, there was the excitement of a gathering in and of itself. She’d been before, of course, but it was still surreal to see cats of all clans united in one place without threatening to claw each other’s pelts off; and following the events of the past moon, with ThunderClan helping ShadowClan to drive out its corrupt former leader, Brokenstar, Sandpaw didn’t doubt that this gathering was going to be an important one for the future of all the clans.

The other cats who had been chosen to go were assembling in the clearing. Bluestar and Whitestorm were quietly conversing about something, while Darkstripe sat with Tigerclaw in silence as the deputy said something to Squirrelpaw. After a moment’s conversation, the small ginger cat (who had a decidedly unimpressed look on her face) said something to Tigerclaw and turned away, nose held high in the air as she padded to the den.

“That’s how you look when you’re mad.”

Sandpaw jumped as Dustpaw remarked from right behind her.

“Dustpaw!” She half-scolded, half laughed as batted at him with a paw. He backed off.

“It’s the truth!” He protested, before shaking his head and staring at the gathering cats quietly. Sandpaw waited instead of saying anything back and, after a moment, he spoke again:

“…I wish I was going with you.” He admitted.

“Oh, Dustpaw.” She meowed. “It shouldn’t be _that_ interesting.”

“A gathering’s a gathering.” Dustpaw grumbled. “And I don’t like that I’m being left alone here.”

“You’re not being left _alone_.” Sandpaw rolled her eyes – her friend could be so melodramatic! “Lots of cats’ll still be in the camp, you know that.”

“No-one my age.” Dustpaw remarked. She spared him a curious glance.

“I didn’t think you liked Fireheart or Greystripe that much.” She revealed. Dustpaw shuddered.

“Fireheart, no.” He clarified quickly. “But Greystripe- he’s fine, sometimes. And we were friends before we were apprentices. He just spends so much time around that kittypet…”

“Speaking of that kittypet,” Sandpaw said as she caught sight of Squirrelpaw at the entrance to the apprentice’s den, saying something to Fireheart. After a moment, the two touched noses, and Fireheart began to pad over to the group preparing for the gathering whilst Squirrelpaw watching him go. “…I think his kit’s going to be staying behind as well.” She finished.

Dustpaw said nothing, but made a noise of vague disgust. Sandpaw couldn’t blame him – that cat, as well as being half-kittypet, was a complete jabbermouth, while Dustpaw had never been one for extended conversations. The prospect of being stuck with just her to talk to was probably a highly unpleasant one for him.

“Good luck.” She snarked at him before bounding across the clearing – with the arrival of Fireheart and Greystripe, Bluestar had signalled to leave for the gathering, and the chosen cats were walking out of the clearing. Offering a final twitch of her ears to Dustpaw, Sandpaw followed her clanmates into the dim-lit forest. The moonlight shone down through the trees, illuminating their path, and she kept a keen eye on their surroundings as they pressed onwards to Fourtrees.

The journey to the gathering, unfortunately, gave Sandpaw plenty of time to be alone with her thoughts, which seemed to have been whizzing around her head non-stop since Fireheart had accidentally marched into the apprentice’s den and proceeded to ask Sandpaw to keep an eye on his (apparent!) daughter from the future – as if she’d given any indication that she’d be willing to do him a favour like that. However, she’d been raised on at least a basic form of cordiality, and so had humoured both of them letting Fireheart sleep after his vigil and spending the day with the small collection of ginger fur that was Squirrelpaw.

Squirrelpaw’s very existence, as it turned out, had been enough to send Sandpaw for something of a loop. As she’d admitted to the cat in question, she hadn’t really considered the possibility that the kittypet – Fireheart – was a permanent faucet of her life. He’d come to the forest all full of bluster and attitude, tearing Longtail’s ear in their fight on his first day in the clan, and she figured that eventually he’d either get cold paws and want to return to his old life, _or_ he’d do something way out of line, based on the fact that he hadn’t been raised on the warrior code, and would be forced away from the clan. But while he _had_ done some things, like feeding Yellowfang and himself on a hunting patrol, that were worth punishment, he’d stuck around.

And then, he’d become a warrior, and _then_ his _kit_ from the _future_ had arrived, and if the first of those two hadn’t indicated to Sandpaw that maybe this intruder on her clan’s way of life was here to stay, the second (assuming it was true – she still had her doubts, to be perfectly honest, but it wasn’t as though she could prove anything) definitely had. And so, she had been faced with the difficult task of accepting that, for better or worse, the kittypet was her clanmate now.

So distracted was she by these thoughts that she almost tripped on a loose branch – stumbling, she was shaken out of her musings just in time to see Fireheart bound up to Bluestar and whisper something in her ear. In response, she immediately began to slow down, letting Tigerclaw lead the rest of the group up ahead. Perhaps it was just the stresses of recent days, but Sandpaw felt her blood begin to boil. What was that kittypet up to? Overcome with a sudden and insistent bout of suspicion, she watched as the two fell back, and then darted away from the main group and hid herself just before they fell from her sight. Crouched in the undergrowth, she scented the air – making sure, as she did so, that she wasn’t upwind of them – and then crept forward as silently as she was able, intent on seeing for herself what business Fireheart had with their clan leader.

Unfortunately for her, the two cats meandered into a clearing and up onto a log, and she could only get so close without being spotted, meaning she was unable to hear what they were saying. Nevertheless, from her vantage point, hidden amongst the grass, she could make out the two cats as they conversed. Bluestar’s tail swept from side to side, and she stiffened as Fireheart spoke to her. What he was saying, Sandpaw couldn’t know.

She strained her ears, trying to pick up the conversation, taking note of how both cats seemed tense as they spoke, but then she heard a crashing from behind her and quickly bowed low as Tigerclaw ran into the clearing. He said something else, Bluestar nodded, Tigerclaw backed out of the clearing, and Sandpaw decided that that was her cue to leave and head back to the main group before anyone else could miss her. Still keeping as quiet as possible, she backed out of the undergrowth and, once she was far enough away, ran back to the ThunderClan cats on their way to the gathering, attaching herself to the back of the pack just in time for Tigerclaw to swing his head around and see her.

“There you are.” He exclaimed, gruffly. “I thought we’d lost you for a moment.”

“No, Tigerclaw, I’m right here.” She assured him. He frowned, but nodded as Bluestar and Fireheart both re-emerged, with Bluestar taking position at the front of the group. After waiting for a moment, and sniffing the air, she flicked her tail, and ThunderClan descended towards the gathering, coming to a collective halt at the edge of the clearing before beginning to disperse.

They had arrived.

Cats began to mingle, and though Sandpaw took part in no conversations herself, she observed everything happening around her. The senior warriors from each clan were having low-voiced discussions. Greystripe and Fireheart were talking to some RiverClan cats. Whitestorm was deep in conversation with a ShadowClan elder. Tigerclaw was sitting by the rock with a disgruntled expression.

In what felt like no time at all, an old black cat sounded the call for all cats to gather beneath the rock. She could only assume that he was ShadowClan’s new leader now that Brokenstar was gone, as Crookedstar and Bluestar (the leaders of RiverClan and ThunderClan respectively) jumped up by his side. Once all the cats were gathered, the three leaders eyed one another. Crookedstar, Sandpaw noticed, seemed agitated – and kept throwing glances at Bluestar. As the cats from the clans quietened down, he stepped forward.

“To begin, Bluestar,” he announced gravely, “I would have words with you.”

“And you could not have sent representatives earlier?” Bluestar sounded puzzled, but there was a firmness to her voice. “You would rather have those words with me now, for all to hear?”

“I would.” Declared Crookedstar sternly, before turning to her in what looked to be a sudden rage, lashing his tail. “Earlier today, my warriors found your deputy brazenly trespassing in our territory.”

Instantly, there was uproar from ThunderClan, as they sprang to Tigerclaw’s defence. Tigerclaw himself hissed in outrage; his ears flattened as he glared up at Crookedstar in unabashed fury.

“Lies!” He spat.

Though Bluestar showed less sign of it, she squared her shoulders and looked Crookedstar directly in the eyes. Her voice was cold.

“What you claim is highly unlikely.” She told him. “He has been with me for much of the day, and seeing to his duties for the rest of it. And even if he _did_ have the opportunity to go to RiverClan territory, what would his purpose have been? Were you able to discern as much?”

Crookedstar scoffed. “We didn’t get the chance.” He revealed. “When confronted, he fought off the whole patrol and vanished. We assumed that he’d fled back into his own territory.” His gaze drifted down to Tigerclaw, standing at the foot of the great rock. “It looks as though our assumption was correct.”

Tigerclaw snarled, but was cut off when Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy, snarled at him in turn, forcing his attention away from the leaders on top of the rock. More wails rose from ThunderClan, and Crookedstar growled as he surveyed the gathered cats. “My warriors do not lie. Some of them still bear the wounds he inflicted upon them.”

Sandpaw looked over to the Riverclan cats – she could see no injuries on the warriors there. Was Crookedstar lying?

“They don’t look hurt to me.” She noted dryly to Whitestorm, who flicked his tail in response.

“He wouldn’t bring injured warriors to a gathering.” He explained, simply. The explanation made sense; it left Sandpaw suddenly feeling like an assumptive fool. She shook herself, irritated, to rid herself of the feeling.

Bluestar’s eyes shimmered with fury, but Sandpaw could see how she was trying to maintain a level of control and respect.

“Is it possible that your warriors were mistaken?” She asked. “That the cat you encountered was not Tigerclaw?”

“They say he looked like him.” Crookedstar growled, obviously unhappy at the validity of his warriors’ claim being questioned. “Same size, same pelt and eyes. And he had ThunderClan scent.” He frowned at Bluestar. “Unless your deputy has a similarly-coloured littermate that’s been kept hidden from us all this time, there is no other cat it could be.”

Bluestar’s ears flattened, her patience running out – but before discussion could progress any further, the final cat on top of the rock stepped forward.

“This confrontation is unnecessary.” He told the other two leaders. “At the very least, it sounds to be a personal issue between your two clans.” He paused before speaking again, considering his words. “For the sake of the truce, allow the matter to drop.”

Bluestar lashed her tail once, but backed away from Crookedstar.

“You speak the truth, Nightpelt.” She admitted, gruffly. A heartbeat later, Crookedstar stepped away as well, still growling to himself. If the looks the two leaders were giving each other was any indication, the matter was far from over, but at least there was to be no actual fight about it that night.

“Are you ShadowClan’s leader, now?” She continued, eying Nightpelt as if summing him up. Nightpelt stood firm on top of the rock.

“Yes.” He revealed. “I have taken over the leadership of ShadowClan. Our former leader, Brokenstar, broke the warrior code, and we were forced to chase him out.”

The discussion continued from there, but it began to fade into the background – for Sandpaw, the most riveting thing to focus her attention on was the question of whether or not Tigerclaw had trespassed into RiverClan territory. From her perspective, it made no sense. Their deputy staunch (sometimes infuriatingly so) about the upholding of the warrior code, and him breaking it himself was almost inconceivable. At the same time, his appearance was a unique one, and the story that Crookedstar offered seemed hard to deny. If it wasn’t Tigerclaw, who in the name of StarClan could it possibly have been?

The question plagued her for the rest of the night, all throughout the discussions that the leaders proceeded to have about medicine cats and boundaries and the necessity of WindClan's return. (Sandpaw, in all honestly, was very much impressed that Bluestar managed to sway that particularly uneven argument in her favour - especially considering her earlier spat with Crookedstar.)

It was only after the gathering had ended, on the way back to the ThunderClan camp, that she had her epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dustpaw: "Eyy she looks a bit like you when she's mad"  
> Dustpaw:  
> Dustpaw [waking up later that night in a cold sweat]: "-hOLD UP"


	11. The one where Squirrelpaw gets ahead of herself and Brambleclaw is melodramatic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are over! I'm a tired boy! But here we go!
> 
> (Also, I hope you like italics)

**11**

_He was alone._

_Brambleclaw had roused himself from the recesses of sleep, running his tongue over his muzzle as his waking mind pieced together the dream he’d had – where a cat from StarClan had visited him, and told him: “Take this opportunity._ Save them _.” He’d awoken with a start, heart pounding. He’d had dreams and signs from StarClan before, of course, but never before had he been filled with the same feeling of ominous dread, and had risen with the intent to talk to someone about what he’d dreamt – perhaps Cinderpelt, or Leafpool. Even Firestar._

_Only, as he’d began to scan Sunningrocks, he’d quickly realised that he was the only cat there._

_The whole can was gone. Everyone from elders to kits appeared to have vanished in the middle of the night, and no trace of them had been left behind. Even the ThunderClan scent that had previously been thick on the rocks had lessened, as if they’d been gone for days or moons._

_Initially, he’d panicked. His psyche had conjured up horrific visions of the whole clan being killed or taken away by the twolegs while he’d slept. He pictured Firestar crushed under the wheels of one of their monsters, his mother hit by a felled tree, Squirrelpaw wailing as she was taken away like Greystripe. Has that been what StarClan had meant? Had it been left to him to save his clan from complete destruction?_

_Of course, after his fear had worn itself out, he’d begun to think logically about the situation. There was no sign of twolegs anywhere – if the clan had been taken, there would surely have been signs of some kind of fight, be it fur or blood or even bodies. If the monsters had converged on Sunningrocks, their tracks would have remained in the dirt, and their reek would have enveloped the air. If the twolegs themselves had arrived, he’d have picked up on the scents of either them or their dogs. No matter how it may have happened, there would have been more evidence. Instead, landscape almost seemed… healthier. He could smell more prey, and the leaves and grass seemed greener. It was as though the forest had healed itself overnight._

_The only question, of course, was where the rest of the clan had gone._

_He had thought it through thoroughly as before deciding on a course of action, but eventually, he’d been left with only one logical outcome. The twolegs hadn’t taken everyone, but there were_ definitely _no other members of the clan at Sunningrocks. (He’d checked every hole, just to make sure that there was no cat hiding out of sight.) The only remaining possibility was that ThunderClan had simply relocated again, in order to evade the twolegs just a little while longer. And, as it stood based on where the twolegs were coming from, the only possible direction they could have gone was across the RiverClan border._

 _Which led him to where he was now – half-heartedly standing by the river that signified the RiverClan border, checking for any sign that ThunderClan hadn’t actually gone over to the other side. It seemed unlikely, in his eyes, that Leopardstar would have agreed to house ThunderClan, but it was entirely possible that she’d finally realised the scale of the threat the clans were facing. Maybe Stormfur had convinced her of something._ Or, _he reasoned pessimistically with himself_ , she was just taking advantage of ThunderClan’s weakness and ensuring that they’d owe her a debt in the future. _Maybe she’d try to take Sunningrocks again._

 _He couldn’t smell ThunderClan across the river, and that made him stay on the other side of the bank a little while longer. But where else, logically, could they have gone? Beyond that, he hadn’t been able to pick up the scents of the rest of the clan heading in any_ other _direction, and this was as logical as any. He steeled himself, gritting his teeth, and plunged into the river, trying to not think about the time in the mountains where they’d all almost drowned after being swept away. The cold water was a shock, and he forced his muscles to keep pumping as he kicked his powerful legs to propel himself through the water. He couldn’t help but feel a sliver of admiration for RiverClan, who made swimming look so easy – or even Greystripe, who’d learnt from his time in their clan and had returned to ThunderClan with an affinity for the water._

_Thinking of Greystripe sent a twinge of guilt through him. Though he logically knew that it had been Greystripe’s choice to distract the twolegs while the rest of the patrol had made their escape, and that there likely hadn’t been anything he would have been able to do, he still thought back to that moment – that horrific moment, where the doors had slammed shut. That final glimpse he’d caught of the ThunderClan deputy’s face – mouth open in a soundless yowl, staring desperately at the forest like he already missed it – would, he knew, haunt him for a long time._

_A wave of water cresting and hitting him in the face reminded him of his immediate situation, and he choked as he kicked harder, reaching out with his front paws and clawing at the riverbank as it came up to meet him. Thankfully, his strength was assured after the stress of the great journey he’d just returned from, and so he was able to haul himself out of the river and onto the bank with only minimal difficulty – stopping for a moment to cough, and shake his sodden fur. The sun, which had barely been above the horizon when he’d awoken, was now a lot higher, and he felt its beams warm him. He was tempted, for a moment, to stop and recline, but then remembered that he was technically in another clan’s territory, and that he was trying to find the rest of his_ own _clan._

_As he walked (careful to be slow, and cautious, so that if he encountered a RiverClan patrol, he wouldn’t look like a brazen trespasser), he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d been left behind. It made sense, he supposed, from a certain perspective. ThunderClan was large, even with the losses it had recently suffered, and considering how pressing the issue of the twolegs was, he wouldn’t fault Firestar for making some kind of mistake. At the very least, he was young and fit, and able to find his own way without any other cat there to help him. And it wasn’t as though he was a leader, or a medicine cat; he was just another warrior. More likely to be overlooked._

But you were part of the prophecy, _he reminded himself._ You’re important _. However, he also remembered that his part of the prophecy, finding the sun-drown place and listening to Midnight, was over – all that was needed now was a guide, and Squirrelpaw and the cats from the other clans would surely suffice. They didn’t need him in that way anymore, probably. Still – being apparently abandoned left a bad taste in his mouth._

Perhaps they abandoned you on purpose _, the other part of his mind suggested._ Perhaps they didn’t want you around anymore, now that you’ve done what you had to do. _His instinct, though, was to reject this idea as well. Though the clan had reacted with hostility when he’d returned from the sun-drown place, some of them had at least been friendly. Shrewpaw had been happy to see Squirrelpaw, as had Sandstorm and Fireheart. And he didn’t think that the clan had been_ so _unhappy with him that they’d just leave him behind. Beyond that, he and Squirrelpaw had both been on the journey, and he hadn’t seen her at Sunningrocks either. There was no good reason for the clan to take her with them, but abandon him, if it was the journey or their news that they were upset about._

But then, I’m the son of Tigerstar. _He mused glumly as he crept through some reeds, wondering why he’d seen no sign of ThunderClan (at this rate, he’d end up in the RiverClan camp – maybe that was where they’d gone)._ The daughter of Firestar, hero of the forest, is bound to be worth more than the son of one of its greatest monsters.

 _He tried to dispel these thoughts. He’d rejected his father, both in how he’d lived his life and to his own face, on that dreadful day when Tigerstar had brought BloodClan to the forest, and Scourge had killed him with that one fateful blow. And though he’d faced difficulty in being accepted fully in ThunderClan, he_ had _eventually been accepted. Perhaps he’d never be a normal member, between his heritage and his destiny, but it wasn’t so bad that he was worth leaving behind. Was it?_

_He forced these worries to the back of his mind as the sound of rustling, and the scent of RiverClan, caught his attention. He tensed up as a RiverClan patrol emerged from the undergrowth. Cats he didn’t recognise, they paused in shock, looking more surprised to see him then he was to see them. He coughed and began to speak._

_“Do you-”_

_“What are_ you _doing on our territory?” One of them hissed, stalking forwards. Brambleclaw winced. This wasn’t starting well._

_“I was looking for the rest of ThunderClan.” He replied, trying to keep his voice even. At the sight of the nearest RiverClan cat arching forward in a threatening display, he stood to his full height, making himself look bigger and less worth attacking. “They’ve vanished from Sunningrocks, and I was wondering if they might have crossed over into your territory.”_

_He had been expecting, at best, co-operation, and at worst, hostile denial. What he hadn’t expected were the looks of utter confusion that dawned on some of the members of the RiverClan patrol._

_“Why would ThunderClan be at Sunningrocks?” One of them asked, voice high with incredulity. “Do you have bees in your brain?”_

_“Either that,” came a new voice, “or he’s taunting us over Sunningrocks again.” Another cat slipped out of the plantlife. The newcomer was familiar – and he soon realised why._

_“Leopardstar?” He gasped. “What are you doing here?”_

_“_ Star _?” Leopardstar hissed in response. “Crookedstar’s not dead, you fool!”_

Crookedstar _? The mention of the former RiverClan leader was enough to give him pause. He’d never met the other cat in person, that he remembered – he knew that he’d been in charge of RiverClan when ThunderClan had sought shelter with them after the fire, but not much else. So why was-_

_“What is this?” Leopardstar stepped forward with a growl. “You think you can just waltz onto our territory, undermine our authority, and assume that our leader is too weak to survive a simple leaf-bare?”_

_A growl arose in his throat. “That’s not what I’m doing at all!” He snapped, patience running short – but this energetic response was apparently enough for Leopardstar, who lunged at him with a yowl. Knocked to the ground, he kicked her in the stomach with his back legs and threw her off of him – but the rest of the patrol was then upon him. A set of teeth fastened themselves into his hind leg as he turned onto his stomach and tried to rise, and he hissed in fury before twisting around and boxing the offending head with one of his paws. The cat kept biting his leg, and he lashed out with his claws again, this time tearing into his attacker’s ear. As that cat howled and released him, another scraped their claws along his shoulders whilst Leopardstar jumped onto his back. He bucked to throw her off, before lunging forward and biting the cat who’d clawed him in the neck. He was met with a howl of pain and fury._

_Claws raked down his flank and back, and he violently threw the cat aside before turning back to the rest of his attackers, spotting his own fur on the wet ground. Leopardstar growled again; he growled back, and then decided to forgo any restraint that had been weighing his mind (such as worry as to what Firestar would say if he saw him fighting a RiverClan patrol) and strike pre-emptively, grappling and pinning one of the RiverClan cats before lashing out and clawing their stomach. Leopardstar bit into his shoulder – he twisted around and clawed her muzzle, and she wailed in anger before kicking him in the side. Winded, he offered little resistance as another warrior bowled him over, fastening him to the ground and holding him down. His initial instinct was to writhe and try and break free, but he restrained himself in favour of allowing himself to rest for a moment._

_As the fighting came to a pause, he assessed his situation. There were four RiverClan cats present altogether – more than he could handle, even if he’d put up a good fight. His leg was aching from the bite, his flanks were dripping blood and loose fur, and his chest was aching. The cat holding him down had no visible injuries, but Leopardstar’s nose was bleeding, and one of her cats was trying to rise with a bloody ear and stomach. The other was licking blood off of their neck and shoulder._

_Leopardstar spat at him, obviously too furious to be reasoned with, as she stalked forwards._

_“Now, Tigerclaw,” she said, “we’ll ask you one more time. Why are you on our territory?”_

_Brambleclaw struggled to breath._ Tigerclaw? _It couldn’t be. Not only had his name changed to “Tigerstar”, but he had been dead for seasons. Why… did they think_ he _was Tigerstar? Why?_

_He watched wordlessly, too stunned to react, as Leopardstar nodded to the cat pinning him down to release him, and it was only after he’d lain down for a moment blankly that he’d realised it was his chance to flee – but he was still stupefied. What on earth had happened, to convince Leopardstar that Tigerstar was still alive? More to the point-_

_Leopardstar fixed him with a look of disdain, and he felt his blood begin boil. More to the point, why had she mistaken him for his father? His father, of all cats? Most of the time, the stark reminder of his relation to that monster would make him feel miserable, or lesser. Today, it made him angry. Furious._

_Yowling, he rose up and grappled Leopardstar to the ground before he was even aware what he was doing, biting deeply into the RiverClan leader’s fur. She shrieked. Another cat fastened their teeth into his tail, and he kept biting for a moment longer before swinging around and clawing ferociously at them, forcing them to let go and stumble backwards as he raked his claws across their side and sent large pawfuls of fur flying through the air. Then, in a moment of clarity, he leapt backwards and darted back the way he had come, leaving the furious yowls of the RiverClan cats behind him. He ran for several seconds before risking a glance over his shoulder, but they hadn’t made any effort to pursue him. Nevertheless, he didn’t slow down until he was back in ThunderClan territory, having swum the river again; this time, the swim had consisted less of worries about his standing in ThunderClan, and more of furious strokes and his heart pounding as he hauled himself up onto the bank, his wounds aching from the fight, and the faint smell of blood still lingering about him, not quite washed away by the water._

_Having gotten to safety, he slumped down and tried to catch his breath, watching the RiverClan territory warily in case the patrol had followed him after all. Thoughts of finding ThunderClan were all but expelled from his head. Something else was happening here, something totally different. And he had no idea what it was all supposed to mean._

_Take this opportunity, StarClan had said. Save them. He still had no idea what it meant, or who “them” even was, but-!_

Alright, StarClan _, he thought._ I’ll see what I can do.

-

What Squirrelpaw hadn’t expected was to be approached by Sandpaw once Bluestar and the ThunderClan contingent had arrived back in camp. It wasn’t as though she was going to complain about it – present dismissive attitude aside, that _was_ her mother, and she missed her – but after the pale ginger apprentice had established that she wanted little to do with any kit of Fireheart’s, it was surreal to see her padding straight for Squirrelpaw.

Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched as Sandpaw came to a halt in front of her (and she realised, that for possibly the first time in her life, she was larger than her mother). “You’ve had a change of heart, then?”

Sandpaw stopped in her tracks, confused.

“Decided that I’m actually worth getting to know? Or at least worth your time?” Squirrelpaw sat down casually in what may-or-may-not have been an attempt to make herself look less intimidating, so that Sandpaw wouldn’t interpret her words as a challenge. Because they weren’t; she was just having some fun with the whole scenario. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but-”

“That’s not it.” Sandpaw interrupted her, which Squirrelpaw had sort-of seen coming. Ah, well. Maybe one day.

“Then what it is?” She asked, suddenly feeling impatient. There was definitely a reason, then. What was it?

Sandpaw drew her tongue over her paw a few times. She looked embarrassed.

“Something happened at the gathering.” She began.

“Oooh.” Squirrelpaw cooed – only to receive a harsh look from the other apprentice, and obediently clamped her mouth shut and waited to hear the rest of the news.

“RiverClan accused Tigerclaw of trespassing on their territory.” Sandpaw explained. Squirrelpaw, after a moment’s shock, couldn’t say she was all that surprised – from what she was coming to know of Tigerclaw, it sounded like something he’d do. But Sandpaw wasn’t done.

“The thing is, they accused him of being there _today_.” She revealed. “Only, that doesn’t make any sense, because we know he was here all of today.”

“…Was he though?” Asked Squirrelpaw.

Sandpaw shot her a glare.

“You spent half the day on patrol with him, mouse-brain!” She scolded.

For her part, Squirrelpaw was still not entirely convinced, but she had to admit that Sandpaw had a point. She snorted but dipped her head, to indicate that Sandpaw should continue.

“And I had an idea.” She continued. “You said that Tigerclaw had a son, right? That you two are friends? Well, what if he’s here too?”

“What?” Squirrelpaw blurted as she sprang up. For a moment, her vision was alight with the possibilities. _Brambleclaw… Brambleclaw!_ “But- I- that can’t be it, though, he’ll have to have time-travelled!”

Sandpaw fixed her with another unimpressed look. “And how did _you_ get here again?”

Squirrelpaw had to admit; Sandpaw had a point. But that meant-!

“It has to be Brambleclaw!” He gasped. “He’s here too! Who- who else _could_ it be?”

Sandpaw shrugged, but there was still a wariness in her gaze. “…I don’t know.” She admitted. “I just thought- you should know, because it’s your friend, and also because you might be able to explain to Bluestar what’s happened. If she knows about another options, she could-”

“Do leader-y things!” Squirrelpaw interrupted, already familiar with what clan leaders were supposed to do. That was what happened when you had a leader for a father, she reckoned. “Yes, yes, I know about all that.” She bounded off, shouting “Thank you, Sandpaw!” over her shoulder. Whether Sandpaw said anything else or not, she didn’t know, because she was already jumping in front of Bluestar, stopping the leader in her tracks as she pulled away from Tigerclaw, who she’d been discussing something with.

“Yes, Squirrelpaw?” The leader looked confused, but also a little amused. Squirrelpaw took that as a good sign.

“Sandpaw told me what happened at the gathering.” She blurted out. “Bluestar, what if the cat- what if the cat that RiverClan mistook for Tigerclaw was someone like me? From the future?”

Bluestar blinked slowly, but it was clear that she hadn’t considered the possibility. She turned to Tigerclaw, who nodded after a moment’s hesitation.

“Of course, it’s unlikely.” He grunted, in typical Tigerclaw fashion. “But if this one,” he indicated to Squirrelpaw, “really did come back from the future, it’s possible that she’s not the only one.”

Bluestar nodded. “I agree, Tigerclaw.” She meowed, before turning back to Squirrelpaw. “You say this cat was from the future, like you?”

“I- that is, I think so.” Squirrelpaw mewed. “At least, if it _is_ , I know who it would be. Tigerclaw’s son- he looks exactly like him. It makes sense that RiverClan would make that mistake.”

“Tigerclaw has a son?” Bluestar echoed, voice soft yet clearly surprised.

“She told me this morning.” Interjected Tigerclaw (making no mention, Squirrelpaw noted, of what she’d said about him having _numerous_ kits). “I’m still… processing the news myself.”

“I suppose congratulations are in order?” Bluestar remarked, in a moment of humour. Tigerclaw didn’t react beyond a grunt.

Squirrelpaw couldn’t take staying quiet a moment longer. “Can we try and find him, and see if it’s really him?”

Bluestar eyed her. “We can try.” She meowed. “But not now. Night has long-since fallen, and if RiverClan found him on their turf, we have no guarantee that he’s even in our territory. More to the point, there might be another explanation for what RiverClan says. It might not be another cat from the future at all.”

But-” Squirrelpaw began, only to be cut off by Bluestar.

“Squirrelpaw, I promise you, if we find this cat and it really is your friend, we will welcome him into the clan as we have welcomed you. But for now, you need to rest, and I need to address the clan.” Without another word, she leapt forward and began to ascend the highrock, leaving Squirrelpaw standing in its shadow.

-

Night had fallen, and Brambleclaw’s situation had barely improved. Though he’d done his best, his wounds were still sore and half-open, and he was aware that they had to be treated soon – he’d seen how a badly a single rat bite had weakened Tawnypelt during their journey, and he didn’t want to be left in a similar bad condition – especially considering his circumstances.

He’d spent a good portion of time simply milling at Sunningrocks, unsure of what to do with, and venting his remaining frustrations on the rocks with his claws. He didn’t like knowing what was happening around him, and he didn’t like not having some kind of plan; the prophecy, as vague as it had been, had at least been clear in some sense. Danger was coming, he had to travel to a specific place and take a message. But now? Now his only tangible goal was to “save them”, whoever they were supposed to be, and it wasn’t as though he had any cat to rely on anymore. Any of the other cats from the prophecy would have been helpful – he’d have even been happy to see Squirrelpaw, although he’d maybe not admit it to her face.

More then that, he’d grown tired of being associated with his father – the cat who’d turned into bedtime horror stories for kits. He knew that the young of ThunderClan, such as Squirrelpaw, were cautioned to not misbehave, or else the terrible Tigerstar would get them, and it had long weighed on him. Tawnypelt, he knew, carried the burden as well. Indeed, sometimes, it felt like the only thing that the two had in common. However, Tawnypelt didn’t look exactly the same as him, and didn’t have the same “-claw” name as him. In addition to that, whilst Tigerstar had ruled Shadowclan, he’d been born and raised in ThunderClan – same as Brambleclaw. All of this meant that if there was any cat that could be considered Tigerclaw’s successor, or the beholder of his legacy, it was Brambleclaw.

What was more frustrating was the fact that it had barely come up, if at all, on the journey that he’d ventured on with the other cats of the prophecy. With all that had been happening to them, there had never been much time to discuss matters such as who was related to whom, and as the cats had drawn closer together, they’d almost forgone clan boundaries and all that came with them; including legacies. For possibly the first time, Brambleclaw hadn’t been consistently reminded that his father had been a monster. He’d able to just be himself. And then this had happened, and Leopardstar (well, perhaps it was “Leopard _fur_ ”) had outright mistaken him for his father, and… it had hurt. A lot.

Of course, as he both reflected on his situation and discovered more about what was happening, he found himself less and less able to blame Leopard _fur_ for the mistake. Because something… indescribably strange had apparently happened to him.

Some time after returning from RiverClan territory, Brambleclaw had smelt and heard ThunderClan scents. Though under any other circumstances he would likely have revealed himself, some of the stranger aspects of his meeting with RiverClan (such as the reveal that Crookedstar was apparently still alive, or the fact that he’d been _mistaken_ for his father, which had never actually happened before, instead of merely being compared to him) motivated him to remain hidden. His instincts had been good; a moment later, a ThunderClan patrol had appeared, and on it had been Darkstripe and Whitestorm – cats that he recognised, but also knew were dead. He’d seen both of their bodies with his own eyes, following the battle with BloodClan. And yet, here they were. More to the point, they were patrolling the forest without a care in the world, as though the twolegs hadn’t invaded the forest at all.

Letting the ThunderClan scent of Sunningrocks hide his own, Brambleclaw had waited until the patrol had moved on, and had then thought hard about all that he had seen. The only explanation – incredible as it was – was that he had jumped… backwards in time, somehow, and was now interacting with the past. It was technically possible, he reasoned, that these dead cats could have returned to life, seeing as how clan leaders were granted nine lives by StarClan. However, it still wouldn’t explain why Leopardfur suddenly seemed deferential to Crookedstar instead of remaining an independent leader, or why Darkstripe – who had abandoned ThunderClan by the time he had died – would be on a ThunderClan patrol. Hence, his travelled-back-in-time theory.

After that, Brambleclaw had remained hidden at Sunningrocks, doing his best to patch up his wounds (and, admittedly, doing a poor job of it), and trying to think through his next move. He was trepidatious to reveal himself to ThunderClan – if he was in his own past, he had no idea what he could change, and he had no idea how far back he was. Was his father still part of ThunderClan? Had Firestar joined? Was Bluestar still alive? He couldn’t say for certain, although he was beginning to get an idea, and the potential consequences for him doing anything could have been disastrous.

However, he knew he couldn’t stay here forever. If nothing else, he’d have to get some sleep and plan his next move. Because there was definitely going to be a next move; that, he was sure of. StarClan’s message had continued to weigh on him, and eventually, he’d come to a conclusion. It depended how far back in the past he was, of course, but if StarClan had told him to take the opportunity to save lives, they likely meant lives that had been lost in the past. Cats who had previously died. From there, of course, the leap in logic was simple. His father had caused so much death, and so much heartbreak. He’d murdered to climb the ranks of ThunderClan. He’d brought the dog pack, and then BloodClan, to the forest. He’d murdered cats in cold blood. And that had to be StarClan’s “them”. He had to stop Tigerstar – possibly Tiger _claw_ – from killing the cats he’d killed the first time around. This was his father, his responsibility. His opportunity. He had to.

Whatever the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squirrelpaw POV: "Ah-hah-hah! Light-hearted time-travel shenanagins! Dramatic irony! This is fun!"  
> Brambleclaw POV: "MY FATHER MUST BE DENIED OPPORTUNITY TO COMMIT HIS SINS"
> 
> Also side note but LMAO feelsbad that Squirrelpaw gets the message ("the future will be the same when you return") that just enables her to go full gremlin, while Brambleclaw gets the message ("save them") that's just like. super heavy responsibility. poor guy can't catch a break


	12. The one where Brambleclaw goes through a large range of emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to save the Squirrelflight/Brambleclaw tag for later but then this chapter happened
> 
> (also I finished writing at like. midnight. so if there's any obvious grammatical errors then that's why. I am fatigued(TM))

**12**

When Squirrelpaw awoke the next morning, she stumbled out of the apprentice’s den and almost crashed right into Fireheart, who was waltzing across the clearing. She stumbled backwards, letting out a squeak of surprise.

“Squirrelpaw!” Gasped Fireheart. “Sorry. We were just, ah-”

“It’s our first warrior mission!” Piped up Greystripe from at his side, sounding like an excited apprentice. “We’re going to find WindClan, and bring them back to their territory!”

“Find… WindClan?” Squirrelpaw echoed, feeling lost. She wasn’t sure if she remembered anything about WindClan being rescued, but she _had_ just woken up.

“That’s right.” Confirmed Fireheart – a moment later, his face fell. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

Before Squirrelpaw could say anything, Greystripe butted in.

“Well, when she told her story of the future, she mentioned WindClan.” He pointed out. “So we _must_ succeed, right?”

Fireheart looked at Squirrelpaw questioningly. She shrugged.

“He’s not wrong. There are four clans living here in my time, so it probably turns out alright.” She encouraged her father, whose tense shoulders loosened slightly.

“Right.” He nodded. “Thanks.”

“It’s okay.” She responded. “I- I guess, it can be scary, doing stuff like this. For some cats, anyway.”

“Not for you?” There was a hint of sarcasm in Fireheart’s voice. Squirrelpaw acted nonchalant.

“What can I say? I just have adventuring in my blood.”

Fireheart looked as though he were about to say something else, but Greystripe nudged him with a shoulder. “Come on, Fireheart.” He reminded the ginger tom. “Travelling herbs, remember? We need to visit Yellowfang?”

“Right, right.” Fireheart shook himself briefly before springing forward, past Squirrelpaw, and towards the medicine den. Greystripe was hot on his heels. “I’ll see you later, Squirrelpaw!”

“See you!” Squirrelpaw called as the two young warriors disappeared. A moment passed; she was alone. Perfect. Casting a wary gaze along the camp, she began to make her way towards the camp entrance; only to stop in her tracks as a call came from another cat.

“Hey!”

Turning around, Squirrelpaw stifled a groan as Sandpaw came striding up to her – and immediately after that, stifled a sudden bout of homesickness at the familiar motion of being reprimanded by her mother for one thing after another. Was she even missing _those_ moments, now?

“I thought you were still asleep.” Squirrelpaw admitted as Sandpaw came to a stop in front of her. Sandpaw’s response was an exasperated noise that made her sound exactly like her older counterpart.

“I _was_ ,” she mewed disgruntledly, “until you tramped out of our den like a badger. If you’re going to try and sneak out of the den while its barely sunup, you could at least not wake up your denmates while you do it.” Tirade over, she cast a suspicious glance over Squirrelpaw’s shoulder, in the direction of the camp entrance. “Where are you going, anyway?”

It was at that moment, however, that Whitestorm called:

“Sandpaw! You’re on the dawn patrol!”

Conversation cut short, Sandpaw could do nothing other than spare Squirrelpaw a suspicious glance as she padded obediently over to the elder cat’s side. Squirrelpaw, for her part, just gave her a quick wave with her tail. Then, Sandpaw and the patrol left the camp; and Squirrelpaw was once again alone.

Not wanting to get herself noticed immediately, she resolved to wait a little while before heading out, so that she didn’t run into the dawn patrol. As Fireheart and Greystripe left the medicine den and ran out of the camp entrance, she casually trotted over to the fresh-kill pile and made it look as though she was spoiled for choice. Then, after several long moment had passed, she gave the camp another glance and slipped out of the camp entrance herself, heading into the forest. Her goal was simple: to find Brambleclaw.

It _had_ to be him; it just _had_ to be. What had Sandpaw had definitely made sense, as she’d thought about it – what was there to say that it was just her that was sent back in time? Why COULDN’T Brambleclaw have been sent back, too? Beyond that, it only made sense if it was Brambleclaw specifically, because what other cat could have been mistaken for Tigerclaw by RiverClan? Everyone said that he looked like his father, and now that she’d (unfortunately) met his father, she could confirm it – the two could probably swap places without anyone noticing. Well, not really. Tigerclaw DID have all those scars, and also, he probably couldn’t act nice for even a moment.

In the same way, she doubted that it was physically possible for Brambleclaw to frown as much as she’d seen his father do it. She’d seen him get angry, definitely. She’d caused a lot of that anger herself, as a matter of fact. But even at his most exasperated, there had been a lightness to Brambleclaw’s features that totally wasn’t there with Tigerclaw. Tigerclaw was constantly frowning, constantly weighed down with the weight of an invisible something. Always miserable, and when he was angry, he didn’t shout or anything – he just seemed to get _more_ miserable, only he’d also get more threatening. As much as she hated to admit it, Tigerclaw was threatening. She could barely imagine Brambleclaw threatening a kit.

The trees were coated with frost as she bounded through the forest, paying no heed to the leaves and twigs she was crunching under her paws, and the prey that she was surely scaring away. In a heartbeat, she was passing by the sandy hollow, traversing the span of ThunderClan territory as quickly as she could. In all honesty, her hastiness was twofold; she was eager to find Brambleclaw, yes, but she was also fully aware of the fact that she’d be missed in the camp before very long, if she wasn’t already. Worse than that was the fact that Tigerclaw, her pseudo-mentor, would almost _definitely_ be the one in charge of finding her, and what she didn’t really want to do was experience him chasing her through the forest. Even if her life wasn’t necessarily in danger.

As it stood, her plan was to make her way to RiverClan territory and then work inwards – while she wasn’t sure why he’d ben in RiverClan in the first place, it meant that he was more likely to be near there than anywhere else in ThunderClan territory, such as the Owl Tree of the border with ShadowClan. Though she’d probably check those later as well, just to be certain. If Brambleclaw really WAS in the past with her, she wasn’t going to laze around and wait for him to find _her_. If nothing else, he’d probably get hopelessly lost, and then she’d have to rescue him. Again.

Emerging from the dense undergrowth, she arrived at the edge of the river, and surveyed her surroundings. No patrols from either clan, which was good, but there was no sign of Brambleclaw either. Still – she hadn’t expected to find him _that_ easily. Trying to make sure she didn’t stray too close to the river and get her paws wet, she followed the sluggishly flowing water as it trickled downriver. The cold of the approaching leaf-bare meant that ice was forming at the river’s edges, appearing as fast as the water that was still flowing snapped it off and carted it downstream.

Squirrelpaw stifled a shiver as she was hit by the cold air, no longer protected from it by the trees. She couldn’t help but wonder how Greystripe and her father were doing on their mission. The more she thought about it, the more she thought that perhaps she _did_ remember the mission to retrieve WindClan. Though she hadn’t been told much about it, certain aspects, such as how it was Fireheart and Greystripe specifically who had gone, stuck out in her mind, and she was fairly confident that she was thinking of the right occurrence.

In any case, it couldn’t have been easy to bring an entire clan back to its territory. How had they even done it? Squirrelpaw wasn’t sure. WindClan couldn’t have gone too far, she reasoned, otherwise the journey may have been too difficult. If she were being honest, the thought filled her with a small amount of satisfaction, on account of the fact that it meant that the journey _she_ had gone on was still the furthest cats from the clan had been away from the clans themselves. It didn’t make a lot of _logical_ sense, but she was certainly proud of that. She, and the cats from the prophecy, were… their journey was special, and the was it was unique in how far they’d gone helped make it feel special.

Maybe she was just being silly.

Brushing through a few more reeds, she suddenly found herself within sight of Sunningrocks, and had to restrain twinge at the sight of land that had served as her Clan’s refuge back in her own time. A part of her still expected her father – Fire _star_ – to recline near the top, surveying the clan, with Sandstorm by his side, and Cinderpelt and Leafpaw in charge of the clan’s well-being.

 _Leafpaw_ … Squirrelpaw’s gaze dropped to her own paws as she thought of her sister, who was another cat that she was beginning to miss very much. The image of her sister as she’d remembered her – young and small – clashed with the sister she’d met most recently – malnourished and thin. The sight of her sister in such a state after they’d rescued her from the twolegs had almost made her feel ashamed of her own strength and good health; like it had been unfair for her to be kept strong by the journey while her sister and the rest of the clan starved waiting for them.

Unlike the other members of her family, whose absence left aches and what felt like real pains as she was reminded of how she didn’t have them with her, Leafpaw’s not being there simply felt like… nothing. A void, where there had once been something. She’d always known that she and Leafpaw had some kind of connection, but whatever it was – not matter how strong it may have been – it had felt as though it had been cut off ever since she’d arrived in the past. As if there was nothing for it to sense and connect to. She’d grown used to the feeling, or had at least become more capable of ignoring it, but it was definitely still there. And if she were honest, it still scared her a little.

Even if she didn’t want to admit it, that was probably another reason why she was so desperate to find Brambleclaw; why it _had_ to be him that RiverClan had seen, and not any other cat. She had people that she knew in the past, such as Fireheart and Sandpaw, but she wanted someone who-who knew _her_.

Reaching Sunningrocks, she hopped atop of one of the rocks and began to look around, keeping an eye out for any cats. No shapes moved in the grass – no silhouettes appeared on the other side of the river. At that moment, she might as well have been the only cat in the world. Letting out a sigh, she hopped back to the ground and began to circle Sunningrocks, hit with the realisation that there might have been a cat sleeping inside one of the small caverns that Sunningrocks offered. She stopped, suddenly, as she was hit with a strong and familiar scent. _Brambleclaw_! But just as she arched forward to smell the air, another smell became apparent.

Blood.

Fear turned her blood to ice, and she stumbled forward, following the scent until she found herself standing at the entrance to one of the small holes in-between the rocks.

And there he was.

Curled up in a ball, he looked a little like a shadow of his regular self. There were half-healed wounds all across his flank, and droplets of dried blood on the floor by his body. One of his back legs, in particular, looked badly chewed up. His ears twitched tiredly. As Squirrelpaw watched, he lifted his head, and lethargically blinked his amber eyes. It was clear he had just awoken, and was disorientated – this combined with his injuries made him look almost completely helpless and, if she was being honest, just a little pathetic.

She didn’t think she’d ever been so glad to see him.

“Brambleclaw?” She breathed, before losing any semblance of composure and all but flinging herself across the den towards him. “Brambleclaw!”

“Squirrel-?” Was all she heard him say before she crashed into him. Ignoring his _mrrow_ of surprise, she rammed her head underneath his chin and began to purr as she savoured the warmth of his body – of his _presence_. He was here, and for the moment, that was all that mattered. After a few heartbeats, she felt Brambleclaw’s head lower and come to rest on top of her head.

“I- hey.” He meowed, weakly.

“Hey.” She responded, not moving.

“You’re not normally this happy to see me.” She heard him point out.

She purred again. “It’s been a long few days.”

“That’s true.” He replied, voice a murmur. She didn’t reply, instead contenting herself with breathing in and letting herself rest.

“I mean,” he said after a few moments, “there’s the clan, and we have to get them to leave, and there was Greystripe…”

“Wait, what?” Squirrelpaw felt herself get dragged back to reality, and she pulled herself away to face Brambleclaw properly.

“And I had this dream,” Brambleclaw continued, “that I travelled back to the past, and I fought a RiverClan patrol, and-”

“Brambleclaw.” Squirrelpaw breathed. “That wasn’t a dream.”

Brambleclaw stopped dead. “What?”

“It wasn’t a dream.” She repeated. “You’re in the past.”

“But-” Brambleclaw began to protest, but then he held his tongue. Something flickered in his eyes, and all of a sudden, his whole countenance clouded over. His shoulders began to physically stoop, and Squirrelpaw was suddenly worried he would collapse where he lay; but then he seemed to recover himself. When he looked back up, he wore the expression that she’d seen every time he’d taken charge in the past. “Right. No, you’re right. I remember now.”

“Sorry.” She muttered; not sure what else she could say.

“No, it’s okay.” He said. “I just forgot, I was tired-” he stopped again, this time beginning to blink furiously and stare at her as though he was only just seeing her now. “Wait, if I’m in the past, then how are _you_ here?”

“Because I got sent to the past as well, mouse-brain!” She exclaimed. “I’ve been here for days. I’ve been with ThunderClan.”

“Days?” Brambleclaw made a motion as though he was going to try and stand up, but then winced and hissed as he tried to move his injured flanks. “How long have I… been asleep?”

“I must have arrived before you,” Squirrelpaw reasoned, “because I only heard anything about you after finding out that RiverClan announced at a gathering that they’d fought a Tigerclaw look-alike that morning.”

“Right, right.” Muttered Brambleclaw. In Squirrelpaw’s opinion, he still sounded very confused, but it was clear that he was doing his best to wrap his head around their strange situation. “That… makes sense…” He looked up at her, helpless as a kit. “It doesn’t make a _lot_ of sense, though.”

“Nope.” Squirrelpaw huffed. “No, it doesn’t. But StarClan visited me before I got sent back, and told me that I ought to return. Eventually.” She paused in consideration as she remembered that small part of him. “I just hope that “eventually” isn’t in half a lifetime, or something like that.”

“Who knows?” Brambleclaw asked – before his head whipped around and he glared at Squirrelpaw, whose mouth was already open. “Don’t say-”

“StarClan, probably.” Declared Squirrelpaw, airily.

“…I knew you were going to do that.” Brambleclaw complained.

Squirrelpaw was happy to say that she remained unapologetic.

Brambleclaw shook his head in exasperation, but she could sense the relief coming off of him. The knowledge that he was happy to see her filled her with warmth; she was all for curling back up at his side and resting for the remainder of the day, only for a voice to jolt her out of her reverie:

“Squirrelpaw.”

Squirrelpaw’s tail lashed in an uncontrollable mixture of exasperation and fear as she recognised the voice. _Tigerclaw_. He had probably been sent after her once it had been discovered that she was missing. She’d hoped for more time, but she couldn’t really complain, seeing as how she’d actually found Brambleclaw. Sparing a glance to Brambleclaw, however, she was perturbed at the sight of him. His eyes were wide with shock, his claws were unsheathed, and his breathing was getting faster and faster. For a moment, she was completely lost; what was happening to him? But then Tigerclaw called out again, and Brambleclaw flinched, and suddenly it all became clear. This was his father. His _dead_ father. His dead, _highly evil_ father. It looked as though he was having some complicated mixed feelings about the situation – and she couldn’t blame here.

“Stay here.” She said, making a snap decision. “I’ll handle this.”

Brambleclaw looked at her like he wanted to say something, but before he could protest, she’d licked his ear and then jumped out of the small den, revealing herself to the ThunderClan deputy, who was standing at the bottom of Sunningrocks with an unmistakably irritated expression on his face. She took some comfort from the fact that no matter the context, she was capable of causing that expression on any authority figure. Some things remained the same, she supposed.

“Hello, Tigerclaw!” She called.

“Why are you here?” Was Tigerclaw’s response, not even humouring her attempt at conversation. She hadn’t expected him to.

“Somehow, I don’t think you’d believe me if I said it was because I wanted to take a stroll across our territory.” She ventured.

That time, Tigerclaw didn’t even reply using his words; instead, he just continued to glare at her.

“Well, the truth is, I was looking for the cat RiverClan reported fighting off, because like I said yesterday, I thought that it was another cat from the future,” she informed him. “And before you get too angry with me; it’d be in your best interests for me to find him, right? So that RiverClan doesn’t think it was _you_ that wandered onto their territory anymore.”

Perhaps it was unwise to agitate a cat that could tear her apart in moments if he put his mind to it, but then again, no cat had ever accused Squirrelpaw of being wise.

For his part, Tigerclaw appeared to make a painstaking attempt to restrain himself before opening his mouth again.

“Did you find him?” He asked.

Caught off-guard by the question (she’d honestly expected to simply be dragged back to the camp, no questions asked), she eventually managed to admit: “Yes.”

Wordlessly, Tigerclaw began to walk forward. Squirrelpaw unsheathed her claws – what did he want to do? But when he saw her arch her back defensively, he actually stopped in his tracks before huffing in exasperation.

“I don’t intend to harm him.” He said, slowly, as though he were explaining a complex idea to a kit. “I was simply hoping to meet him myself.”

“How do you even know he’s here?” Protested Squirrelpaw. “I never said he was.”

Tigerclaw looked at her as though she was a complete idiot. “Scent.” He simply replied.

Squirrelpaw faltered for a moment, but still stood defensively in front of the den. “If you aren’t going to hurt him, then why… why _do_ you want to see him?”

“He is my son.” Tigerclaw meowed.

Squirrelpaw was reluctant to reply, mostly because she wasn’t quite sure _how_ to reply, and also there was a very real risk of her saying something challenging or derogatory. The truth was, she didn’t believe for a moment that it was the prospect of family that had Tigerclaw so eager to see Brambleclaw. He’d already manipulated it so that she was his apprentice, or at least apprentice-of-sorts, because he wanted to use her knowledge of the future. Who was to say that he wouldn’t come to a similar arrangement with Brambleclaw? Perhaps he’d spend time with him under the guise of “getting to know his son”, only interrogating him about the past? What if-?

“No need to trouble yourself.” Came Brambleclaw’s voice, from behind Squirrelpaw. “I’m here.”

Before Squirrelpaw could argue with him, Brambleclaw had hauled himself out into the open – directly into Tigerclaw’s view.

-

When Brambleclaw saw his father again, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. It wasn’t as though he felt _nothing_ towards the cat that stood before him; that couldn’t have been more wrong. It was more the matter that he wasn’t sure which emotion to focus on. Should he be afraid that the cat that had haunted the entire forest for so long was standing before him, alive and well? Should he be angry? Should he exercise caution on the basis that this Tigerclaw hadn’t committed many of the atrocities that the Tigerstar he’d known had? Should he feel defiance? Reject him once again? Or should he remember the horrific death that his father had suffered the first time around?

His guiltiest feeling was the part of him that was… _glad_ that his father was alive. He respected Firestar, obviously, as a mentor and leader, but this was his birth father. His birth father, who wanted to see him. (Of course, he knew deep down that it couldn’t be for anything good, but the idea was still one he was a little tempted to cling onto.)

Pushing all of these feelings to the side, he quickly eyed up his father. The prospect of eliminating him immediately and being done with the problem arose, but he quickly judged that to be impossible. Even if he could catch his father by surprise, he was unlikely to win in a fight considering he’d already fought an entire patrol all by himself since arriving in the past, and hadn’t been looked over by a medicine cat since then. It simply wasn’t feasible.

Settling his nerves, he stepped forward and dipped his head slightly.

“Father.” He meowed, paying no heed to Squirrelpaw’s gaze flickering to him questioningly.

Tigerclaw stared at him, showing no emotion – instead, his gaze travelled up and down Brambleclaw, as though he were examining him. Trying to determine his worth. He forced himself to remain calm.

“So.” Rumbled Tigerclaw eventually. “You are my son.”

“I am.” Brambleclaw confirmed, ignoring the persistent ache in his flanks in favour of standing on equal footing with his father.

The two faced each other for moments longer, neither saying a thing. Squirrelpaw looked from one to the other, probably trying to figure out what was happening. Brambleclaw felt for her, but if he was honest, he could barely tell what was happening himself. What was Tigerclaw thinking?

Then, all of a sudden, Tigerclaw turned on his heel and began to stalk away from Sunningrocks – back to camp.

“Come.” He ordered. “You ought to talk to Bluestar.” Then, as an afterthought: “And get those wounds looked at.”

Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw shared an incredulous glance and one another, but then Brambleclaw decided that he was still too disoriented to care, and began to obediently place one paw in front of the other as he began to trek back to the ThunderClan camp. After another moment of hesitation, Squirrelpaw began to pad after him, eventually catching up and leaning on his side to support him. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” He muttered.

“Of course.” Came her response.

He looked down at her, allowing himself a moment to register it all. She was here. Here in the past with him. He’d assumed that he was alone; clearly, however, it wasn’t the case as once again, Squirrelpaw – the living embodiment of a burr in a cat’s pelt – was getting involved in his messes. This time, however, he had less of a mind to complain about it. The fact that he’d grown used to specifically her company over the journey meant that the prospect of the two of them heading into an unfamiliar situation alone was far less horrifying then it once might have been. _And_ it was beneficial to have a cat he knew he could trust from his own time, instead of having to set out on his task by himself. Beyond that, he was… glad. After all they’d been through, calling her a “friend” wasn’t a stretch, and he was appreciative of the company.

As if sensing that he was thinking about her, she peered up at him quizzically.

“What’s on your mind, mouse-brain?” She asked. Though there was still a little mischievous bite to her words, her voice was surprisingly soft.

“Aside from everything, you mean?” He retorted. She let out a quick snort of laughter.

“Yes, aside from everything.” She played along with humour in her purr. “You’ve got your “thinking face” on.”

Brambleclaw’s eyes crossed as he tried, for a fleeting moment, to look at his own face. “I have a thinking face?”

“Well, it’s more like your “regular face”, because you spend so much time thinking.” Squirrelpaw admitted. “But yes.”

“Oh.” Breathed Brambleclaw, unsure how to respond.

A moment of walking passed. Brambleclaw let himself breathe for a moment, looking up and savouring the sight of the woods in front of him. It may have still been leaf-bare, but it was clear that this forest hadn’t been damaged in the same way that the forest in their own time had been. The thought left him both content and saddened.

Squirrelpaw nudged him, bopping her head against his chest to get his attention. “Well?” She prompted. “What’s on your mind?”

“What- oh, right.” Brambleclaw faltered. “I was just… I was thinking.”

Squirrelpaw blinked at him. He sighed.

“That I was… glad you were here, is all. If it had to be anyone, I mean. I’m glad it was you.”

For one totally peaceful moment, Squirrelpaw didn’t react. Then her gaze practically lit up, and she melodramatically slumped against him. He almost toppled over – not only was he still hurting, but he hadn’t been expecting her to do that. (Even if he really should have been.)

“Oh, Brambleclaw!” She cooed melodramatically. “I had no idea that you cared-!”

“And I’m already regretting admitting it.” He grumbled, shoving her off him. “Let’s just get back to camp quickly so I can get my – ow! – scratches treated.”

“Well you said it, and you can’t take it back now.” She told him, insufferably smug.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can say something else to counteract it.” Brambleclaw told her. “Something like “Squirrelpaw is an insufferable apprentice who thinks she knows everything”.”

“Maybe so,” admitted Squirrelpaw, “but you say things like that lots already. A compliment from you, however, is a much more special occasion.”

He tried to protest, but she’d already shushed him by placing her tail in front of his mouth, and smirking at him as their eyes met again.

He didn’t think it was possible to forget his circumstances, of course. His trip to the past, his mission, the threat that his father posed to the lives StarClan had told him to protect. Not even all that had come before that – the journey, StarClan’s message and prophecy, and the threat faced by all the clans. But there in the forest, with frost scattered atop the branches and Squirrelpaw by his side, he liked to think that he could come very close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brambleclaw: "It is nice to have Squirrelpaw here, because I know that we can work well together, and also I am used to her company."  
> Brambleclaw: "Also she's my friend?? I guess?"  
> Squirrelpaw: "Wow I feel so appreciated"


	13. The one where Brambleclaw is nervous and Sandpaw is curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laksdkjflkas SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR OVER A WEEK. I have begun my interrailing - my train journey across Europe, along with some friends - and I can say that I wrote this chapter in bits and in three different cities. (It's been... hectic.) This whole thing is gonna last at least a couple more weeks, and I have no idea how consistent my internet connection's gonna be - just a heads-up! :P

**13**

Unlike Squirrelpaw’s arrival, Brambleclaw’s initial introduction to the ThunderClan camp was not particularly chaotic.

Well, perhaps it was. But not for the first few seconds, at least.

Tigerclaw had stopped to check something on their way back to the camp (it could have been just a quick sniff of the border, but StarClan knew, he may well have been up to something), which meant that Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw were the first ones to arrive back at camp. Cats paid them attention, of course, but nobody initially saw anything out of the ordinary. Most likely, they simply were mistaking Brambleclaw for his father. Never mind the fact that she had, technically, made the same mistake, this bothered Squirrelpaw, and she made sure to press extra close to him as they made their way to the medicine den. He made a confused sound, probably because he hadn’t caught onto her reasoning as usual, but he didn’t question it.

They were almost to the medicine den when that senior warrior – Whitestorm – approached them.

“You’re back.” He addressed Brambleclaw, whose only response was to stare at the older warrior. Whitestorm blinked. “You’re not-”

It was at that moment that Tigerclaw walked through the camp entrance, characteristic sneer on his face, and after a moment of realisation, someone yelled something and then the whole clan seemed to descend into anarchy, with cats either shouting things or murmuring to one another in disbelief.

“Two Tigerclaws?” She heard someone yell in disbelief. Brambleclaw flinched.

The real Tigerclaw strode forward until he was only a little way behind Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw, and then spoke up in an authoritative voice that left everyone in little doubt as to his identity.

“We have found another cat from the future.” He announced. “This is my son, Brambleclaw.”

That said, he turned tail and began to walk somewhere else, completely ignoring the rest of the clan and the questions they had. Squirrelpaw groaned; it wasn’t that she didn’t want the attention, but the fact that Brambleclaw was injured took precedence, and she knew that the clan would want to talk to him especially.

Whitestorm, who hadn’t moved from his position in front of them, blinked slowly, clearly flummoxed. If Squirrelpaw had to guess, she’d say that a part of his confusion came from the fact that he’d actually managed to confuse his deputy with the cat standing in front of him. (That had to be embarrassing). Still, this veteran warrior was nothing if not dignified, and it only took him a moment to re-centre himself and examine Brambleclaw with a new look in his eyes.

“Well, that would explain the lack of scars.” He eventually remarked, before dipping his head. “I can only apologize for my mistake.”

“It’s… it’s no problem.” Brambleclaw managed. “No problem at all.”

Whitestorm moved by to let them pass, waving his tail as a signal to the other members of ThunderClan, who had gathered around them, to let them through; though not before asking, “Is Goldenflower your mother?”

Brambleclaw paused, hesitated, but eventually nodded slowly. “She is.”

Whitestorm nodded in acknowledgement. “Would you like me to tell her that you’re here, or-?”

Squirrelpaw cut in. “I think he can tell her himself, but that’s only _after_ -” she flicked her gaze over to the medicine den, “he gets his injuries looked at.”

“I understand.” Whitestorm told them, before stepping back. Brambleclaw began to walk to the medicine den, but his ears flattened as cats began to shout questions at him, similarly to how they’d accosted Squirrelpaw when _she’d_ arrived in the past.

“Are you really Tigerclaw’s son?” This was the cat she’d fought when she first arrived in the past – Darkstripe – who was staring at Brambleclaw in some kind of creepy mixture of shock and awe. Squirrelpaw’s ears flattened as she shot him a look.

“How old are you?” That was a warrior she couldn’t quite remember the name of.

“Is the whole future ThunderClan going to end up in our time?” That voice came from the elder’s den.

Squirrelpaw glanced up at Brambleclaw. He met her eyes, panic clear within his own. She blinked in surprise, but then shrugged her shoulders. He glanced around, nervously, but eventually swallowed and straightened himself up a little.

“Everyone!” He called, quietening the clan down. “I’m happy to answer all of your questions later on, in my own time. However,” and here he winced as he flexed his hind leg, “I have some injuries that I’d like to get treated sooner rather than later.”

“That’s what happens when you try and take on an entire RiverClan patrol by yourself.” Squirrelpaw tacked on, drawing a glimmer of satisfaction from the way Brambleclaw side-eyed her in exasperation.

Without saying anything else, he began to walk again, but then a new cat appeared at the edge of the crowd, and he stopped dead in his tracks to stare at them. Following his gaze, Squirrelpaw saw Bluestar as the clan parted to make way for her as she approached Brambleclaw.

That was right; he’d known her, hadn’t he?

“Bluestar…” Brambleclaw murmured, quiet enough that only Squirrelpaw could hear it.

“I was in my den; Tigerclaw told me everything.” She meowed as she gave Brambleclaw a once-over. “I see that Squirrelpaw’s hypothesis was correct.” She dropped her icy gaze to Squirrelpaw, who felt obligated to hunch low in deference. “And that she’s returned to camp.”

Brambleclaw wheeled around to face her. “You snuck out?”

“Can we have this discussion later?” Squirrelpaw argued. “Weren’t you on your way to the medicine den?” To re-emphasise her words, she flicked one of Brambleclaw’s wounds, and he winced in response. Bluestar took note of his reaction, before indicating with her tail and beginning to walk towards the medicine den herself.

“We can discuss matters further inside.” She told Brambleclaw, before raising her voice to address all of ThunderClan. “Return to your duties. I shall make an official address this evening.”

As the clan dispersed, Brambleclaw finally slipped through the tunnel and into the medicine den, where Bluestar and Yellowfang were both already waiting.

“Now, what’s this foolish young tom done to himself?” Yellowfang wondered out loud, exasperation already lacing her mew, as she approached Brambleclaw and began to examine him. When she saw his leg, she let out a hiss. “Take your weight off of that leg before you damage something permanently!” She barked.

“RiverClan didn’t take kindly to his presence in their territory, apparently.” Squirrelpaw deadpanned, as Brambleclaw obediently shifted his weight onto his other three legs.

“Wasn’t asking you.” Yellowfang told her, before rising up and looking at Brambleclaw – who was now standing motionlessly. “And don’t think that _you_ get any special treatment just because your father’s deputy in this time, you hear? I won’t have you swing your weight around while you’re my patient.”

“I- I wasn’t expecting any.” Brambleclaw stuttered. Yellowfang fixed him with an odd look, before turning to Bluestar.

“Are you sure he’s Tigerclaw’s?” She asked.

“Yellowfang.” Chided Bluestar, though there was no real force behind her words.

“Oh, I mean no disrespect to our deputy, obviously.” Yellowfang meowed in a tone of voice that very much implied disrespect, actually. “But he’s often very forceful, and very insistent that things are done his way at times when it suits him. I’m just heartened to see that his son appears to have a little more patience.”

Brambleclaw didn’t reply. Yellowfang blinked slowly at him, before turning to Squirrelpaw.

“A tom of few words, I see.”

“I’m sure he’s just tired.” Squirrelpaw suggested, although Brambleclaw looked far from tired – as a matter of fact, he looked very tense, and his gaze was constantly flickering between Yellowfang and Bluestar like he couldn’t decide which one to stare at in a vaguely terrified manner.

Yellowfang snorted in disinterest, before turning around and starting to rummage through her supplies. As she focused on that, Bluestar eyed Brambleclaw.

“Your name is…?” She questioned.

“B-Brambleclaw.” He responded.

Bluestar nodded in acknowledgement. “And you’re from the same point in time as Squirrelpaw?”

“Yes.” He answered brusquely, flinching as Yellowfang came back and began to treat his wounds. “I- I woke up here – in this time – two sunrises ago.”

“And it was you who fought RiverClan.” Continued Bluestar. Whilst her previous questions had been fairly evenly-toned, when she made this latest inquiry, her voice was decidedly frosty, and Squirrelpaw spotted a glimmer of emotion in her eyes. (And while she couldn’t tell for sure, it looked like _bad_ emotion.)

Brambleclaw stared for a moment, before stammering over his words. “I- that is- yes, I, I did.” Yellowfang let out a snort of laughter, then quickly disguised it as a cough. Watching Brambleclaw rumble through the conversation with all the grace of a badger, Squirrelpaw wasn’t sure whether to laugh at him or feel sorry for him. She did her best to stay neutral between the two.

Bluestar had likely noticed how uncomfortable he was, but she remained undeterred from the conversation at hand.

“Seeing as I am not technically responsible for your actions, I cannot punish you.” She told him. “Nor can I, in all good conscience, punish you for what appears to be an honest mistake based around your displacement in time – though what in your time lead you to the belief that RiverClan territory was a place you could go, I do not know.” Brambleclaw opened his mouth, then closed it again. Bluestar eyed him, then nodded approvingly. “And it is better I not know, I think.” She confirmed. “Nevertheless, the fact remains that you – a cat who bears a striking resemblance to my deputy, and who was identified as such – attacked a RiverClan patrol.”

“They attacked me.” Protested Brambleclaw, softly, before his eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. Squirrelpaw had to turn away for a moment, because if she had to look any longer at Brambleclaw’s “stunned dead vole” face she was going to burst out laughing. As she collected herself, she could hear Bluestar continuing to talk, thankfully sounding no angrier at Brambleclaw then she had been before his interruption.

“RiverClan won’t care about the semantics.” She was saying. “Crookedstar wants an explanation that I may not be able to provide, and if something isn’t done to sate them, this could lead to a long-standing grudge between our two clans; something I’d like to avoid if at all possible.”

“Are you going to tell them that he’s from the future?” Interjected Yellowfang, sarcastically.

“No.” Replied Bluestar. “I’ve considered it, but the fact is that it’s an unbelievable reality, and there’s every chance that RiverClan simply won’t believe it if I try to convince them.” She sighed. “I’d been wondering what I’d do if Squirrelpaw had an encounter with members of another clan, and now I suppose I have the answer to that question.”

Ironic that she had it from Brambleclaw, of all cats. Brambleclaw the oh-so-mature-and-knowledgeable warrior, and not Squirrelpaw the silly, mischief-making, can’t-be-trusted-with-responsibility apprentice. She was definitely going to remind Brambleclaw of that fact in the future.

“So… what will you do?” Brambleclaw ventured. Deciding that she was calm enough to look at him without losing her composure, she turned back around to watch the conversation. Brambleclaw’s hindquarters were in the process of being swathed in cobwebs by Yellowfang.

“I cannot punish you for your mistake, and it would not be right to punish Tigerclaw for it either – even if doing so would be enough to sate RiverClan.” Responded Bluestar.

Privately, Squirrelpaw thought that some unjust punishment was just what Tigerclaw needed, but she kept the opinion to herself.

“The best course of action,” Bluestar continued, “is to try and convince Crookedstar that his warriors saw a rogue or travelling cat, instead of Tigerclaw.”

Brambleclaw flinched. “That might be difficult,” he revealed, “considering that I said I was looking for my clan.”

Bluestar, after a moment’s silence, exhaled heavily through her nose. Brambleclaw’s ears flattened.

“B- but you might still be able to prove it!” He hastened to add. “I don’t like _completely_ like my father – like Whitestorm said, I don’t have the same scars as he does. And when they called me Tigerclaw, I didn’t respond to the name. I- I froze up. If you can get testimony from his warriors, and they tell the truth, you may be able to convince him.”

Bluestar still said nothing, clearly thinking over Brambleclaw’s proposition.

“It’s not like you have a lot of other options.” Yellowfang pointed out as she sniffed at Brambleclaw’s leg. “Unless you want to try convincing those fish-eaters that cats have begun to leap through time.”

Bluestar nodded solemnly. “I can only hope that they’ll be easily convinced.” She meowed, tone heavy.

“…I’m sorry, Bluestar.” Muttered Brambleclaw after a moment. Bluestar raised her head to look at him, surprised.

“Don’t be.” She declared firmly. “You definitely weren’t expecting to arrive back in the past. I don’t believe that you’re at fault for this.”

Brambleclaw untensed a little, visibly relieved. Before Squirrelpaw could ask him about it, she felt Bluestar’s gaze turn upon her, and an involuntary shiver run up her spine. She was no stranger to getting in trouble, obviously, but normally the cats angry at her were either Dustpelt (her mentor, who she knew), Firestar (her father), Sandstorm (her mother), or Brambleclaw (who she’d at least grown used to by now). Bluestar was all authority and no familiarity, and the thought made her nervous.

“Speaking of fault.” Bluestar’s next words did nothing to ease Squirrelpaw’s nervousness. “You left the camp entirely by yourself, telling no-one – not even Tigerclaw, who you’re supposed to defer to for as long as you stay with the ThunderClan of this time.”

Squirrelpaw momentarily considered telling Bluestar that she wouldn’t trust Tigerclaw as far as she could toss him (and that that was a particularly small distance, given their respective sizes), but then Bluestar was talking again and the moment was lost.

“Not only that, Squirrelpaw, but how far were you willing to go in your search for Brambleclaw?” Bluestar asked her.

“Is that important?” Squirrelpaw demanded. “I found him – that’s all that matters.”

Bluestar loomed up and over the apprentice. “No, it’s not.” She told her. “If you hadn’t found him at Sunningrocks, what would you have done? Combed the rest of our territory, from the RiverClan border to the ShadowClan border? Would you have strayed _off_ of our territory, to try and find him?”

Squirrelpaw blustered for a moment, trying to evade the fact that she almost definitely would have done it, if she’d had to. Bluestar pressed on.

“The only thing that stopped you from continuing on your path was circumstance; not the potential ramifications of your actions, or an act of conscience on your part. At least, that’s what I’m inclined to believe.” She tilted her head a little. “Am I wrong?”

“Well, no,” Squirrelpaw admitted, aware of Brambleclaw and Yellowfang both watching her conversation by this point, “but you could argue that I was doing it for my clan, because I thought it was my clanmate that I was looking for.” She spared a glance at Brambleclaw. “And I wasn’t wrong.”

Bluestar gave a _hmm_ of consideration.

“Be that as it may,” she informed Squirrelpaw, “I still have to assign you a suitable punishment.” Squirrelpaw’s ears drooped. But before Bluestar could say anything else, Yellowfang perked up.

“If it’s not too much trouble, Bluestar, I have an idea for a suitable punishment.” She pointed out. “I could use a helping paw in the medicine den, seeing as how ThunderClan’s only medicine cat for the moment. Not as an apprentice, obviously, because she doesn’t belong to this time, but she can run around and fetch my herbs whenever necessary. That, and do all the jobs that I don’t fancy doing myself. Like fetching fresh-kill.”

 _Lazy old mange-bag_! Squirrelpaw thought in spite of herself. As if sensing those thoughts, Yellowfang turned her steely yellow gaze on her.

“I’ll have you know, it’s quite the task and effort to drag yourself across the camp and fetch food to eat.” She rumbled.

“Still sounds lazy to me.” Squirrelpaw muttered.

Yellowfang snickered. “That’s called “aging”, young Squirrelpaw.”

Bluestar’s gaze flicked between the two she-cats, and her eyes narrowed, as if she couldn’t see any logical reason to object and yet was still trying to come up with one.

“Well, I suppose if it’d help Yellowfang.” She eventually accepted. “I suppose…”

She trailed off. After a moment, Yellowfang loudly cleared her throat.

“Will that be all, Bluestar?” She asked, pointedly. Bluestar blinked.

“It will.” She confirmed. “Excuse me, Yellowfang, Squirrelpaw. Brambleclaw – welcome to ThunderClan.” With that said, she turned and strode confidently out of the medicine den. Squirrelpaw stared after her, mostly annoyed (because of how Bluestar had been insistent in a punishment being _necessary_ ), but still a little in awe. Her father had only ever talked of Bluestar with reverence and sadness in his voice, and it was clear that he’d looked up to her so much. She could see why – just the way she carried herself, with confidence and grace and determination, gave her the feel of a legend in the flesh. If only she’d know, Squirrelpaw mused, that she’d carry on that legacy after she died.

The thought that she wouldn’t know a thing, even if Squirrelpaw told her, filled the apprentice with a sudden melancholy only disrupted by Yellowfang loudly clearing her throat again.

“What a bold little apprentice you are,” she remarked, “trying to weasel your way our of punishment by claiming that what you did was for the clan. For _your_ clan, anyway.”

Squirrelpaw tilted her head up to look down her nose at Yellowfang, in derision. “And it-” But then she stopped. Yellowfang was laughing again. “Oh.”

“I’m not incapable of giving out compliments you know.” The elder medicine cat revealed, as she began to wrap cobweb around the last of Brambleclaw’s injuries. “You may be young, and stupid-”

“Hey!”

“-but you’ve got bravery and charisma. Those will serve you well one day, if they haven’t already.”

“I’d say they have.” Added Brambleclaw, twisting around in his nest to face Yellowfang. “She once- uh, she once distracted a twoleg by going right up to it and purring at it! She got it to release a companion of ours like that. It was stupid, but it may have been one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.”

Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but wonder if Brambleclaw was exaggerating. He _had_ to have seen braver things on their, surely. Stormfur had convinced them to go back and help the Tribe, Feathertail had given her life, and then back in the forest, Greystripe had sacrificed himself to free the other trapped cats. What she’d done surely paled in comparison!”

“Is that so?” Yellowfang stared up at Squirrelpaw with a knowing look, before turning away to check on her medicinal supplies with a mutter of “I could have sworn that she said something about her fighting the twoleg off, but I suppose that age clouds the mind…”.

Suddenly, Squirrelpaw was more or less alone with Brambleclaw again – and he was staring at her with an unreadable in expression in his amber eyes. She stared at him for a moment, and she peered _closer_ at him, suddenly irritated.

“You look like you want to say something.” She told him. He blinked and leant back, surprised, and then awkwardly nodded.

“I- well, sort of.” He admitted. “I just… I’m surprised that you would have looked so hard for a member of your clan. As in, someone from your time.” Concern began to lace his mew. “Has it been so hard? In the future?”

Squirrelpaw pushed up her nose and made an effort to sound aloof. “Well, I wouldn’t say _that_.” She retorted. “I’ve had the past versions of both of my parents here, and there are other cats I recognise as well.” Brambleclaw’s facial expression was still surprisingly unreadable. Yellowfang’s was full of curiosity and mischief. What was the old cat thinking? “I don’t think I’d have been… _that_ eager to find them.” Squirrelpaw continued, cautiously. “That was Bluestar filling in the gaps.”

“I see.” Brambleclaw sounded relieved, even as his gaze clouded over a little. “In that case, I’m glad that you’ve been alright on your own so far.”

Squirrelpaw began to pad towards the entrance, and turned back to thank him and wish him well – but the words inexplicably died in her throat. Instead, she said:

“Well, I’d have done it for you.”

Brambleclaw’s head shot up, and he stared at her in abject surprise. She rolled her eyes, waved her tail, and left the medicine den before she could let herself get embarrassed. And if she could faintly hear Brambleclaw purring as she left – well, that was nobody’s business but theirs.

-

Why did Sandpaw have to miss everything?

As she padded back into the camp (having left to retrieve some prey that she’d buried on patrol and then completely forgotten about), she caught sight of Bluestar slipping out of the medicine den, head bowed low and clearly deep in thought. Almost immediately, their leader was swarmed by cats badgering her with questions and shouting at her. Though the mass of voices was initially difficult to listen to, Sandpaw eventually managed to make out references to “the future cat”, or something along those lines. At first, she was confused. Surely, most of the clan knew Squirrelpaw’s name by this point – why was she still being referred to simply as that cat from the future. But then someone asked how many “more” they were supposed to expect, and she realised; they had to be referring to _another_ cat from the future.

Trotting over to the fresh-kill pile, Sandpaw dropped her catch and then leapt over to the crowd that Bluestar was busy pushing her way through. Her clan leader’s voice echoed across the camp.

“As it stands now, I do not believe that this new arrival poses any threat to ThunderClan. Yes, he was the cat that RiverClan spotted on their territory. Yes; seeing as he, too, claims parentage from ThunderClan, I see no reason to not let him stay the same way that Squirrelpaw already has.”

Another newcomer to the clan! Sandpaw thought in a sort of righteous outrage. Maybe this one wouldn’t have kittypet blood running through his veins.

As Bluestar made her way to her den, with the rest of the clan either pursuing her to ask more questions or dispersing and beginning to get back to their own business, Sandpaw suddenly found herself standing alone in the middle of the camp. Blinking, she turned around and cast an eye to the medicine den. And suddenly, she was inexplicably curious. Who was this newcomer? What was his story, and why was he here? What would his effect have on the clan?

It was this motivation that she tried to keep in mind as she cast her gaze around the clan and, after seeing that nobody was paying her any mind, began to cautiously walk towards the medicine den – feeling obligated to draw no attention to herself even though she wasn’t doing anything necessarily wrong. Surely it was her right, as a member of ThunderClan, to visit this newest arrival for herself, and discern whether or not he ought to stay (even if she had no say in the actual decision).

As she approached the den, she was surprised to see Squirrelpaw come strutting out of it with a pleased look on her face. She stopped dead, but it was too late – the other apprentice had seen her, and her eyes lit up.

“Sandpaw!” She bounded over. “You were right, it _is_ him! He’s here!”

“He- oh.” Sandpaw, after a moment of mental inanity, remembered that it was her who’d actually had the idea that the “Tigerclaw” RiverClan had fought was simply another future visitor. “You mean, it’s actually Tigerclaw’s son? Your friend?”

Squirrelpaw nodded eagerly. Sandpaw nodded back, far less eagerly. It was strange, she reckoned, that Fireheart and Tigerclaw shared such animosity whilst their kits were apparently the greatest of friends – even if she’d only heard it from one of them so far. (And yes, whilst she had no idea of the details or motivations, she hadn’t been as blind as to miss the fact that the kittypet and the ThunderClan deputy had never gotten on well with one another. She simply hadn’t done anything about it because, quite frankly, it had never been her problem.)

There were, of course, several possible solutions. Reasons as to how the friendship had come about. The first was that Fireheart and Tigerclaw had reconciled in some way – though this was unlikely, judging by how she had spied Squirrelpaw interact with Tigerclaw through her time in the future so far. The second was simply that the kits had reconciled the quarrels of their fathers, and were now just friends even as they continued to dislike each other’s kin. This seemed unlikely as well – Sandpaw couldn’t imagine that Squirrelpaw would tolerate her friend if he were similar to Tigerclaw in any way, and it was unlikely that Tigerclaw be happy with their apparent friendship either…

“You can go in!” Squirrelpaw declared, cutting off Sandpaw’s train of thought. Blinking, the pale ginger apprentice responded with:

“What?”

“You can go in.” Repeated Squirrelpaw. “You wanted to see him, right?”

“Well…” Sandpaw peered at the entrance to the medicine den. It was, it seemed, useless to deny it. “Yes, I was curious.”

“Then it’s okay!” Squirrelpaw beamed. “If Yellowfang asks, you can just tell her that I said it was alright, and it’d be okay with her.”

Sandpaw was bemused. “Why would that be-” she began to ask, but Squirrelpaw was already padding away with a spring in her step. She stared at the other apprentice’s retreating figure, utterly confused. That was _another_ interesting thing she’d noticed about the apparent future: despite being Fireheart’s kit, Squirrelpaw seemed totally fine with her, which was… strange. As she’d admitted herself, it wasn’t as though she was happy with Fireheart’s presence in the clan – and even if she’d grown used to the kittypet over time, she couldn’t see herself befriending him or making any sort of big connection with him. (At least, she had no intention to do so.) And yet his daughter seemed more at ease with her than most of the rest of the clan! It was odd, to say the least.

Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, intent on pondering them later, Sandpaw padded cautiously into the medicine den to see ThunderClan’s newest arrival for herself.

As it turned out, he was basically the first thing she saw; a body curled up in a nest, tail swishing idly from side to side. Nearby, Yellowfang was busy rummaging around in her supplies for something. She was speaking, as well;

“…I suppose if those were the thoughts going through your head, I can forgive you.” She was telling her patient. “Well- “forgive” may be too strong a word, seeing as I’m still obligated to treat you, but at least I can understand what led to your injuries, which is more than I can say for most of the cats that drag their ragged pelts in-” She paused as she caught sight of Sandpaw, who was loitering awkwardly in the entrance to the den. “Oh, it’s you.” She sneered. “Come to see the latest future visitor?”

Sandpaw nodded. “I- Squirrelpaw said it was okay.” She wasn’t going to question Yellowfang’s animosity; that seemed to be how she treated most of the clan.

Yellowfang peered at her for another moment, and then turned around. “Well, don’t involve me in whatever inane conversation you’re bound to make with him.”

Inane-? Trying her best to ignore Yellowfang, Sandpaw took a step or two towards the newcomer – who, she observed after a moment of her eyes adjusting to the lesser light, was large, almost as massive as his father. Strong muscles rippled under his shoulders as he turned to face her – and his amber eyes were so similar to Tigerclaw’s that, for a moment, she could have sworn she was looking at the deputy from their time. _No wonder Squirrelpaw mistook the two_ , she mused. _The resemblance is remarkable_.

“Sand…” He said, blinking at her. “Is it Sandpaw?”

He knew her? Sandpaw felt a moment of surprise before letting her logic take over again. No, no, of course he knew her. He was from the future of ThunderClan – the clan that Sandpaw was from – and is Squirrelpaw recognised her in some capacity, then _he_ almost certainly would.

“Yes.” She answered brusquely, ignoring the sting that she felt whenever she was forced to acknowledge the fact that her apprenticeship had not yet reached its end.

“Right.” Said the cat. “I- um. I’m Brambleclaw.”

Ah, yes, _that_ had been his name. It had momentarily slipped Sandpaw’s mind.

“Hello.” She greeted him. “I hope you don’t mind me; I was simply curious. You’re going to be staying with the clan, and I wanted to know who you were.”

“Ah… it’s fine.” Brambleclaw mumbled, awkwardly. He then proceeded to avert his eyes and not contribute anything to the conversation. Well, Sandpaw supposed that she’d simply have to press on on his behalf.

“You’re friends with Squirrelpaw?”

Brambleclaw looked up in surprise. “Yes.”

She let herself feel a sliver of smug satisfaction as she told him: “It was me who suggested to her that the Tigerclaw look-alike reported to have fought RiverClan could have been her friend from the future.” She looked back down at him, only to see that instead of being impressed, confusion sat on his face. Annoying as it was, she had to admit that it did at least help to differentiate him from Tigerclaw, who Sandpaw suspected would never let himself show such raw emotion. “She told me about you.” She elaborated, by way of explanation. “Mentioned that Tigerclaw had a son, and that she was friends with him.”

His ears pricked up. “She did?”

Sandpaw nodded.

“She said that you were “insufferable”, but aside from that she was quite complementary.” She revealed. Brambleclaw let out a small snort of laughter.

“Yes, that sounds about right.” He murmured, almost to himself.

Watching him, Sandpaw could only note her curiosity growing. Tigerclaw, as she understood him, was very self-assured and stoic, as well as a competent commander. And yet; it seemed that his son, despite inheriting his appearance almost entirely from his father, had inherited practically none of his personality – this cat was soft-spoken, and uncertainty laced his tone with almost every word he said, like he was trying to second-guess (or even third-guess) his speech constantly. She could have attributed it to his having come from the future, and being thrust into a confusing past; then again, Squirrelpaw’s circumstances were the same, and she seemed much more open and less careful of what she said. Why would the two of them act so differently, if not for personality?

With all these thoughts coalescing, she opened her mouth and asked:

“And what do you think of Squirrelpaw?”

Brambleclaw looked up at her in surprise, and she had half a mind to join him – but, in retrospect, it wasn’t as though her impromptu question didn’t make sense.

“Call it curiosity.” She emphasised, again. “But I… well, I suppose that seeing as how I’ve heard Squirrelpaw describe you as such a good friend, I was wondering if the feeling was mutual.”

Brambleclaw’s gaze dropped. He began to study the ground, and Sandpaw realised with a dim jolt that he was considering her question in a very serious manner.

“…We weren’t always friends.” Was the first thing he confessed. Curiosity piqued, Sandpaw sat down opposite Brambleclaw and a little way away from him. He didn’t look up or acknowledge her; instead, he kept talking: “For a long time, she was just… annoying.”

Sandpaw scoffed. She’d be lying if she said that she couldn’t empathize.

“But then,” Brambleclaw continued, “we went on the journey. And she- well, she was still annoying. Sometimes. But throughout out all of it, she came through again and again. She even saved my life, when I…” He trailed off. “Saved me from my own clumsiness. So, I suppose, she’s always there when I really needed it. First with our journey, and now here. When I’m in the past, she’s here with me. Helping me stay afloat all over again.” He raised his head for the first time, to address Sandpaw in a more direct manner. “I guess I just have a lot of faith in her.”

Sandpaw supposed that that answered her question well enough, in all fairness.

“It sounds like the two of you have been through a lot.” She observed bluntly.

Brambleclaw nodded. “Yeah.” Then, he sighed. “I just don’t think it’s over yet.”

To that, Sandpaw had nothing to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellowfang, quietly in the corner listening to Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw be adorable: "Hmm. Those two huh. do they. oh. huh. HUH. oh my God are they in love. holy SHIT. THIS IS HYSTERICAL"


	14. The one where Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw both get to talk with their mothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am AWARE that this chapter is on the shorter side but I figured I should just upload it before I get drunk on cheap Prague vodka (again!! things got a little wild last night) and do something dumb like delete my "Simpler Times" word document LMAO

**14**

“And what are _you_ looking at?” Squirrelpaw grumbled, casting her gaze over to Brambleclaw, who did his best to look innocent.

“Nothing.” He lied, failing to hide his amusement at both the situation, and Squirrelpaw’s reaction to it. Obviously not fooled, Squirrelpaw stuck her tongue out at him before returning to her work, leaving Brambleclaw to lie back (gently, to avoid aggravating his injuries) and enjoy the sight.

He’d been in the past version of the ThunderClan camp for almost a day. In that time, Squirrelpaw had returned to the medicine den to visit him again, only to be practically apprehended by Yellowfang, who told the apprentice to get busy and start making herself helpful. When Squirrelpaw had protested, Yellowfang had agreed that she hadn’t been trying to get Squirrelpaw out of punishment or anything – she really _did_ need an apprentice to do the grunt work necessary for the treatment of ThunderClan’s wounded. As such, Squirrelpaw had been sent out to find medicinal supplies in a hunt that had lasted for longer than she would have liked – a point she’d made _quite_ clear as she dragged a jawful of leaves into the den – and was now being forced by an overly-smug Yellowfang to change the den’s bedding.

“Make sure the new bedding doesn’t catch on any thorns or rocks!” Yellowfang advised. “If I see any holes in these nests by the time you’re done with them, I’ll have you start over!”

Squirrelpaw’s response was to mutter something about “mangy lazy medicine cats” through a mouthful of dried nest. Brambleclaw, eager to stop Yellowfang from harshening Squirrelpaw’s punishment any further, turned to the old medicine cat and asked her:

“So, everybody knows that Squirrelpaw’s from the future? How did that happen?” He was curious, but also slightly concerned. Whilst mulling over the nature of his mission (“save them”), it had come to him that whatever action he took would affect the past, if he were able to save the lives his father had taken. As such, he’d resigned himself to caution – although that had slightly backfired upon the revelation that Squirrelpaw was here too, and THEN his father’s announcement to the clan that he was also from the future. But, in any case, the fact that their identities were common knowledge did nothing to put him at ease.

Yellowfang shrugged. “She came barrelling into camp one morning, called Fireheart her father, attacked both him and Darkstripe, and called Dustpaw “Dust _pelt_ ”.”

Well.

That would certainly do it.

“So they knew right away.” Brambleclaw surmised in a deadpan, casting a look to the entrance that Squirrelpaw had just passed through. “And… what else does the clan know? About her and the future, I mean.”

“Well, the fact that Fireheart is her father is common knowledge.” Yellowfang informed him, peering over his leg before giving a small satisfied nod at is appearance.

“And her mother?” Asked Brambleclaw.

“Oh, almost no-one knows _that_.” Yellowfang hummed noncommittedly. Brambleclaw looked up at her with a follow-up question on his lips, but when she met his eyes, she winked, which answered it well enough.

Part of Brambleclaw was still uneasy about the fact that Whitestorm had immediately figured out that his own mother was Goldenflower (what if something was changed? What if he ended up never being born?), but then realised that the most likely reason for this was that she was already in the nursery, expecting him and his sister. At least, he _hoped_ that was the case, though he wasn’t sure. He’d never delved into his parents’ personal history very deeply. How long had they been mates before his birth?

Still. That was a problem to worry about once he was back on his feet, out of the medicine den, and ready to face the world once again.

“Any other future details?”

“Oh, I think the details vary, but she told us a lot.” Yellowfang mused. Dimly, Brambleclaw could feel his tail lashing anxiously.

“Can you define “a lot”?” He ventured. Yellowfang blinked lazily at him.

“She regaled us with tales of the great journey, and the cats from all the clans who came together to carry StarClan’s prophecy far beyond our borders.” She revealed. Brambleclaw’s eyes widened as he processed this.

“That…” he lashed his tail. “Squirrelpaw!” It was totally irresponsible of her to give so much away about the future! They had no idea what could affect what, and the ThunderClan of this time having extensive knowledge of journey could potentially do-

“And while we’re on the subject,” Yellowfang continued, her voice suddenly heavy, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Brambleclaw paused mid-thought.

“…my what?” He breathed.

“Your friend. Feathertail.” Yellowfang revealed. No longer revelling in Squirrelpaw’s suffering, the old medicine cat looked startlingly forlorn. “She sounded like such a nice young cat.”

Brambleclaw struggled to accept the commiserations. Mostly because they meant one thing: they _knew_. They knew that a cat called Feathertail was going to die away from the clan.

 _Greystripe_! Brambleclaw’s eyes widened as he remembered Feathertail’s father. _If he remembers that, he’s not going to let his daughter go on the journey! The prophecy could be ruined! Oh, Squirrelpaw, what have you done?_

It was at that very moment that Squirrelpaw came back in, with fresh bedding and a scowl on her face directed at Yellowfang.

“This bedding had better be to your satisfaction.” She grumbled. “Because I had to-” her gaze drifted to Brambleclaw, and her rage melted away. “Um, Brambleclaw, why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?”

Brambleclaw couldn’t say what his expression was, obviously, but he could make a rough estimate based around the feelings of panic and anger that were rolling around within him.

“Yellowfang.” He kept his voice low, trying to be measured. “Could you… give us a moment to talk in private?”

Yellowfang’s gaze flicked between the two of them, then shrugged.

“Alright, fine. I’ll fetch my own fresh-kill, I suppose.” Having said that, she unceremoniously padded out of the den – leaving Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw by themselves. Squirrelpaw took a pawstep forward, but looked uncertain. Brambleclaw sighed, and re-adjusted himself in his nest so that he could face her easier.

“Squirrelpaw, how much have you given away about the future?”

In hindsight, being so direct and authoritative was always going to be the incorrect way to approach the situation; Squirrelpaw’s face turned into one of schooled ambivalence, and she leant back, away from him.

“What does it matter?” She asked, being defensive instead of answering his question directly. As per usual.

“Because we don’t know what we could change!” Brambleclaw hissed. “For instance, ThunderClan knows that a cat called “Feathertail” died on our journey – what do you think’s going to happen after Greystripe has his kits? He might try to stop her from going with us at all!”

“How? He won’t be in RiverClan!” Retorted Squirrelpaw.

Brambleclaw groaned. “That’s not my point!” He protested. “My point is that we have to be careful that we don’t change our future while we’re in the past!”

“We can’t, though!” Squirrelpaw argued back. “The future will be the same when we get back, remember?”

“The- what?” Brambleclaw felt his anger falter. “What do you mean?”

“The message from StarClan?” Squirrelpaw declared loudly, like he was an idiot. “Where we’re told that we can’t change the future, and that it’ll be the same as we return? Didn’t you get one of those?”

“…No.” Brambleclaw revealed. “No, I didn’t. I mean, I got a message from StarClan, but that wasn’t what they said to me at all.”

Catching on, Squirrelpaw peered at him curiously, slipping out of her defensive mode. One of her ears twitched.

“Then… what did they say?” She asked.

“They said…” Brambleclaw trailed off as he remembered his dream. The echoing voice. “…save them. They told me to “save them”. But that doesn’t…”

Squirrelpaw stared at him in surprise. “Well, that’s vague.” She eventually observed. Brambleclaw rolled his eyes.

“I noticed.”

“Who’s “them” supposed to be?” Squirrelpaw continued, ignoring his aside. “I- I mean, that’s not going to help you at all!”

“That’s not the important bit!” Brambleclaw pointed out, loudly, drawing her attention back to his point. “Don’t you see? How am I supposed to save _them_ , whoever they may be, if the future won’t be the same when we get back? If we can’t change things?”

“I-” Squirrelpaw faltered, blinking and then dropping lower to the ground. “I don’t know.” She admitted. She sounded stunned, as though she’d never had to content with being wrong before. In fact, Brambleclaw remembered that she had a canny knack for actually knowing the right way to go about a situation – even if she was insufferable about it. Not having a clue how to handle a situation had to be an uncomfortable experience for her.

“Hey- it’ll be alright.” He said, trying to sound comforting without going overboard and into an area that would border on “caring”, because it would come across as insincere given they’d just been hissing at each other. Also, Squirrelpaw would never let him live it down. “Maybe we just need some time to think it over? It’s contradictory, but…” He trailed off. The truth was, he wasn’t sure what to do either. The thought scared him.

Squirrelpaw groaned, and ran her paws over her head. “It doesn’t make sense!” She pointed out again. “If the future isn’t going to change, how are you supposed to “save” anyone? And who are you even supposed to save?”

Brambleclaw sighed. “Well, I have a theory of _who_ , anyway-” he stopped when he realised that Yellowfang was poking her head into the medicine den, staring at him questioningly. He shook his head; she blinked and then withdrew, and he felt gratitude towards the old medicine cat for giving them some more time.

Squirrelpaw didn’t say anything in the meantime, but as he looked back at her she flicked an ear to indicate that she was listening. He went on:

“I think… I think StarClan wants me to save the cats who died because of my father.” He confessed. When Squirrelpaw didn’t reply immediately, he ran his tongue over his muzzle and then continued. “Tigerstar killed cats, but even beyond that it was his actions and his lust for power that lead to so many deaths…” he remembered his father’s own grisly death at Scourge’s enforced claws, and shuddered. “…even his own. And as his son, that’s- it’s my duty to stop it.” He stared down at his paws. “Maybe it wasn’t always. But now that we’re here… I have to do it. That’s what I think, anyway.” He looked up at Squirrelpaw. “Do you have any different ideas?”

Squirrelpaw was staring at him as though he were crowfood.

“That’s stupid.” She deadpanned.

-

Brambleclaw blinked at her, and she could see the beginnings of anger in his eyes.

“What do you mean, “that’s stupid”?” He demanded.

“I mean, it’s stupid that you feel like you _have_ to stop what Tigerclaw does just because you’re his son.” Squirrelpaw told him, rolling her eyes. “So what? It’s not your job to clean up after him, and you don’t owe him anything-”

“This isn’t about owing him, Squirrelpaw!” Shot back Brambleclaw, stubbornly. “This is about me making things _right_. All the bad things he did, the lives he’s going to take- I can _fix_ that. StarClan said I should, and there’s no way I’m going to pass up this opportunity.”

“Well-!” Squirrelpaw lashed her tail against the ground. “That’s not fair on you, then!” Her frustration boiled over. Having now gotten to know both Tigerclaw AND Brambleclaw fairly well, she could safely say that any comparison between the two was unwarranted. One was a malevolent, cold-hearted murderer, and the other was… was so much _better_ than that. She’d done her best to stop comparing the two in her mind, at least, and – in her opinion – her friend Brambleclaw deserved better than to be tied down to his fox-hearted father. So to not only hear that StarClan had bound the two by giving Brambleclaw the order to undo his father’s tyranny, but also that Brambleclaw himself was buying into it, made her blood hot with anger.

“Squirrelpaw-” Brambleclaw tried to say, but Squirrelpaw wasn’t in the mood to listen to him.

“Who does StarClan think they are?” She hissed. “They tell _me_ that I can’t change the future, and then they tell you that you _have_ to! How does that make sense in any way, and how is that fair on YOU in any way?”

“It’s not about _fair_ , though!” Retorted Brambleclaw. “I have to do this!”

Squirrelpaw gnashed her teeth. It was the prophecy all over again – Brambleclaw, adamantly insisting that this was his StarClan-given duty. The only difference was that he hadn’t tried to shoo her away yet.

She sighed, trying to force her irritation down. “I’m… I’m not angry at you, Brambleclaw.” She confessed, seeing him jolt in surprise. “But I’m… frustrated that you have to do this all over again, and I’m frustrated because you think that just because Tigerclaw’s your father, you’re obligated to do this.”

Brambleclaw shook his head, helplessly. “But I _am_.” He insisted.

Squirrelpaw could only shake her head at him, frustrated by that connection again.

“You’re more than him, Brambleclaw.” Was all she could say, before she turned on her heel and marched out of the medicine den. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she ended up crashing into Yellowfang.

“Are you alright?” The medicine cat asked, but Squirrelpaw was in no mood to talk.

“Fine.” She muttered, slipping away and streaking across the camp, into the apprentice’s den. Thankfully, Dustpaw and Sandpaw were both out performing other duties, which meant that Squirrelpaw had space – and time – by herself.

 _Stupid Brambleclaw and his stupid obligations_. She thought to himself in exasperation. _How can he think that it’s right for him to do all of that? He’s just one cat, for StarClan’s sake! And it’s not HIS fault that his father was a monster! He shouldn’t have to do it all by himself!_

 _Beyond that, how could it possibly work_ , she wondered, _that StarClan tell me that the future will be the same when I return, yet they tell Brambleclaw to “save them”? If he’s supposed to save lives, what would the point be if everything stays the same? If the future won’t change when we go back, how is he supposed to_ save _everyone?_ She groaned, and buried her head in her nest. _StarClan have been vague before, but this just- just doesn’t make sense!_

-

Brambleclaw stared despondently at the entrance to the medicine den that Squirrelpaw had just angrily marched out of. Their conversation had hit multiple notes, but it was her parting words that were sticking with him.

“ _You’re more than him, Brambleclaw_.”

He knew that! Obviously there was more to him than his father – he’d proven himself as a member of ThunderClan, and StarClan had shown their approval when they’d selected him to be one of the cats from the prophecy. It wasn’t just about him being his father’s son… was it?

“The two of you are done, then?”

Looking up, Brambleclaw saw Yellowfang staring at him intently. He shrugged his shoulders with a wince.

“I guess so.”

“Good.” Declared Yellowfang, without preamble. “Because someone else wants to see you.”

With that said, she stepped out of the way and let another cat enter the den. Brambleclaw saw a golden pelt and a face younger than he remembered, but no less warm. Her eyes were wide as she drank in the sight of him.

Goldenflower.

His mother.

“Hello.” She breathed, clearly awestruck. He shifted around in his nest – until Yellowfang hissed at him warningly, and he forced himself to settle down.

“Hello.” He greeted in turn, feeling himself relax a little. Even if the circumstances were still beyond bizarre, his relationship with his mother had been consistently warm, if a little distant based on how busy he’d found himself as a warrior. Beyond that, he could look at his mother without feeling shivers of guilt or regret. Yellowfang had died because Firestar had rescued him over her; Bluestar had died to save Firestar and the whole clan; Tigerclaw had ultimately been overrun by his machinations and murdered nine times at once. When Brambleclaw looked at them, part of him could only see what they would become. But his mother… he could take comfort in the fact that nothing awaited her beyond a peaceful retirement to the elder’s den.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Goldenflower was saying, “but Whitestorm came to visit me in the nursery and I… I felt as though I had to see you as soon as possible.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine.” Brambleclaw assured her. “You can-”

He stopped in surprise as Goldenflower, without any further preamble, walked over to him and sat down by his side, curling into him with a sigh and resting her head on top of his. Brambleclaw heard Yellowfang snickered at the sight, and his tail-tip began to curl in embarrassment.

“I’m not a kit!” He protested, shuffling his head around. Goldenflower didn’t budge.

“You’re _my_ kit.” She replied firmly.

“Mother.” He wriggled away, then the turned to face her. “I- I’m too old for that. I’m a warrior, I shouldn’t…” He trailed off when he saw Goldenflower’s face. Her gaze was trailing up and down Brambleclaw’s body.

“You’re hurt.” She rasped, taking in his bound and treated wounds.

“That was just RiverClan.” Brambleclaw explained. “I’m sure it doesn’t look good, but it’ll be alright. Yellowfang’s taking care of me.”

Yellowfang made a harrumphing noise of agreement, but Goldenflower didn’t look sated. Instead, she began to eye him again – looking this time at old wounds, scars he’d acquired during his training and on his journey.

“And all of these? They were RiverClan too?” Her mew was sarcastic, but there was an underlying concern to it.

“Well… no.” Brambleclaw admitted.

“What was this?” She pointed with her tail to the scruff of his neck. Instantly, Brambleclaw’s vision was filled with flashes – Jaggedtooth hauling him away, Tawnypelt (Tawnypaw, then) screaming in fury – and he let out a tense breath.

“That was… a while ago.” He meowed. “It’s fine.”

“And this?” Goldenflower directed her attention to a patch of fur that hadn’t grown completely back yet. This time, Brambleclaw remembered being roughly seized by a twoleg during the patrol’s attempt to free all the captured forest cats, remembered writhing and squealing and tearing his own fur out to get away.

“More recent.” He admitted. “For me, anyway.”

She looked into his eyes. Her own were full of love, and sorrow.

“Oh, my kit.” She murmured again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it as he realised that there was no easy answer to that question. A part of him wanted to tell her everything – StarClan’s prophecy back in his time, the danger the forest was in, the loss of Greystripe and the position of convincing Firestar and helping to lead his clan that had somehow fallen onto him. He wanted to tell her about how he was so scared of being similar to his father – that his father was a monster, and always had been – but there was a part of him that wanted to be powerful, and be a leader, so desperately. He wanted to tell her about being back in the past, and the agony that came with knowing how so many of these cats would die, and the responsibility that he had to try and stop it from happening. But he _couldn’t_. She didn’t deserve that. And the rest of him reminding him dutifully that even if Squirrelpaw had been told that the future couldn’t change, it was best to not give everything away all the same. Who knew what possibilities there were?

“I’m not sure.” He confessed, eventually. “I think so, I think- I think I can do it. But I’m tired.”

Goldenflower wordlessly rested her head on top of his, and this time he accepted it. It had been a long time, for him, since he’d just been able to curl up and relax with his mother. Considering the context, it felt… earned.

“It’s alright though.” He tried to assure her, voice growing lower with fatigue. “I’ve survived this much. And some of what I’ve seen; it’s incredible. You wouldn’t believe it.” He thought back to the mountains, and their desolate expanse that was beautiful in its own barren way. He thought of the awe of the sun-drown place. He thought of Midnight. Then Purdy, and then Feathertail, Stormfur, Crowpaw, Squirrelpaw and Tawnypelt. “And I… I have my friends.” He murmured.

“That sounds wonderful.” Goldenflower purred. “Do you want to tell me about them?”

Brambleclaw remembered what he’d heard about Squirrelpaw apparently telling the whole clan the story of their journey. “Maybe… maybe later.” He sighed. The fatigue seemed to double with every moment, and he blinked wearily. Perhaps the day had just been emotionally draining.

“Alright.” Goldenflower meowed soothingly. “Maybe later.”

-

“What’s got _you_ so down?”

Opening an eye, Squirrelpaw saw Sandpaw staring at her from the other end of the apprentice’s den. How long had she been there?

“Didn’t think you cared.” She muttered, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Sandpaw blinked, but otherwise didn’t react.

“This is my den too, you know. You think I want to share it with a cat who’s just moping around and making a spectacle of themselves?”

Well, that was more like the Sandpaw she’d come to expect. Wearily, she pushed herself off of her front (where she’d been lying and wallowing in misery and her struggle to have any productive ideas) and sat up.

“Apparently me and Brambleclaw were told different things by StarClan before being sent to the past.” She revealed. “So now we’re not sure what’s right and what’s wrong. His message was about changing the past, mine was about the fact that the past can’t be changed.” It wasn’t quite the full picture of the argument (she was still annoyed that StarClan and Brambleclaw both thought it was his job to fix his father’s mistakes), but it was enough to at least give Sandpaw an answer without giving away _all_ of her emotional turmoil. Sandpaw may have been her mother in the future, but at this time she was still just a stuck-up apprentice, and Squirrelpaw figured it was best to not rely on her for everything right away.

Sandpaw blinked. “But that doesn’t make sense!” She protested, after a moment of stunned hesitation.

“I said the same thing.” Revealed Squirrelpaw, gloomily.

Sandpaw _hmmed_ in exasperated thought, and sat down in her own nest. (Which was a good distance away from Squirrelpaw.) “Well, that can’t be…” She trailed off, before looking back up to Squirrelpaw. For once, she looked unconfident in what she was saying. “Do you think… do you think StarClan made a mistake?”

Squirrelpaw blinked as she considered the idea. It was _possible_ , she could admit. Part of her was a LITTLE shocked at the idea that her all-knowing warrior ancestors could have made a mistake, but she supposed that it wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to questioning authority figures. What was one more? And yet…

“I don’t think so.” Squirrelpaw admitted. “I suppose they could have, but this isn’t a case where the two messages could have been confused for one another. “Your future will remain the same” and “you have to save lives in the past” seem very different from one another.”

“So, it was deliberate.” Affirmed Sandpaw. Squirrelpaw nodded.

“I think they gave us both of those messages on purpose. The question is… why?”

“Well, what were the exact words StarClan said to you?” Suggested Sandpaw. “Maybe there was a clue in the specific wording.”

“Aha! That’s not a bad idea.” Squirrelpaw replied, blinking at her mother gratefully before settling down in her nest and trying to remember what Feathertail had told her.

“ _You cannot change the future._ ”

“ _No matter what action you take…_ ”

“ _Your future will remain as it is when you return._ ”

“She said that my future will remain the same when I get back, no matter what action I take.” Squirrelpaw recounted. “Whilst apparently, Brambleclaw’s message was to “save them”.”

“Save them?” Echoed Sandpaw, bemused. “Save who?”

For possibly the first time, Squirrelpaw hesitated to say. What if Brambleclaw’s perspective was the right one? What if what she was doing was changing the future after all? What would happen? But, she reasoned, she _had_ already revealed a lot. As long as she was vague enough…

“There are some… there are some deaths that Brambleclaw blames himself for.” Squirrelpaw explained. Sandpaw tilted her head in a questioning way; Squirrelpaw realised the implications of what she’d just said.

“Not that they were his fault!” She hastily added. “I don’t even know if he was _born_ for some of them. It’s just… he feels like it’s his responsibility to stop them from happening to begin with. It’s…” She trailed off, trying to stop her irritation at the whole situation from rising back up. Breathing in and out, she shrugged her shoulders. “He feels like it’s his weight to bear, even though he hasn’t done anything to warrant it. So, when he hears “save them”, he thinks its referring to that.”

“And you think it isn’t?” Sandpaw asked.

Squirrelpaw buried herself a little deeper in the nest. Sandpaw’s question confronted a major issue that she’d been grappling with over the course of her frantic thinking session – one that she hadn’t necessarily wanted to consider, perhaps out of selfishness.

“I think… I think, logically, that’s what it is.” She confessed. “If they were going to tell him to “save” anyone, that probably makes the most sense. That’s just… not what I want it to be.”

“Hmm.” Sandpaw hmmed. “So… what, you don’t want him to have that responsibility?”

“I don’t know!” Squirrelpaw confessed. “I just feel like it’s not fair on him. He’s already been through ONE huge prophecy, and we haven’t even- we haven’t even saved the clans in _our_ time! How is he supposed to do things in the past all by himself, and how is he supposed to do it when StarClan is being… contradictory in their messages!” The vehemence of her own words surprised her.

Sandpaw shifted uncomfortably, like she wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Well, that’s… that sounds difficult.” She sighed.

“Thank you for summing that up.” Replied Squirrelpaw, sounding surly. Sandpaw snorted.

“Sorry for not having anything better to contribute.” She snarked. “Though I don’t even know why you’re moping so much; he’s got _you_ , hasn’t he?”

“ _He’s got you_.” Squirrelpaw gasped a little. She hadn’t even considered that.

That was right. Brambleclaw _did_ have her. He’d had her before, and he had her now. And, she decided with a suddenly-growing conviction, she wasn’t going to sit back and let him figure it all out by himself. She was in the past as well; maybe it was her job as much as it was his!

“Thank you, Sandpaw.” She meowed. Sandpaw responded with a bemused expression.

““Thank you”?” She echoed.

Squirrelpaw nodded. “You were… you were a big help.”

Far from accepting the praise, Sandpaw’s expression curdled.

“Hmm.” She grunted, before turning and beginning to pad out of the den like she couldn’t stand to be in the same space as Squirrelpaw for a moment longer. “Well, alright. Just don’t tell anyone else about this conversation, or you’re crowfood.”

“What?” Asked Squirrelpaw, now feeling amused rather then annoyed at Sandpaw’s standoffish-ness. “Afraid you’ll lose the clan’s respect if they find out you consorted with a kittypet’s kit?”

Sandpaw left the den without another word – merely a sniff of derision. Squirrelpaw’s snickers, following her out, eventually died down into a contented sigh.

Brambleclaw wasn’t alone. She was here, and if there was one thing she was, it was _capable_. She was Squirrelpaw! She’d figure out StarClan’s message, and if it really _was_ Brambleclaw’s “mission” to save everyone?

Then she’d help him do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brambleclaw: "I'm going to save every cat that my father's scheming caused the death of!"  
> Redtail's ghost in StarClan: "Am I a joke to you?"


	15. The one where Squirrelpaw plays Tigerclaw like the cheap kazoo he is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDLDKFJAS APOLOGIES FOR NOT UPDATING FOR THREE WEEKS!! I DID SAY THAT THINGS MIGHT GET A BIT INCONSISTENT
> 
> Sorry about that, AND about this chapter being... I think on the shorter side? But I head back to England tomorrow, so I'll be able to settle down and *hopefully* crank out some more content. AND I keep having ideas about where to take the story (I have MULTIPLE FLOWCHARTS), which is good because it means I won't get super stuck on anything in the future. And, uh... yeah ^_^ enjoy

**15**

When Squirrelpaw barrelled into the medicine den in the early hours of the morning, Brambleclaw couldn’t say that he was altogether surprised. But perhaps, considering their argument the previous day, he’d expected her next arrival to be a little more subdued. Certainly, he hadn’t counted on her being so enthusiastic that she’d crash into a corner and send some of Yellowfang’s medicine supplies flying.

“Squirrelpaw!” Brambleclaw gasped, struggling to his paws with a wince. “What are you-”

“I can help!” She blurted out, scrambling up. “To- you said you wanted to save them. Let me help you!”

Brambleclaw blinked at her, a little stupefied. It appeared as though she’d done a complete about-turn; from criticising his conviction to save his father’s victims, to offering to help him. It wasn’t that he intended to complain – but it did startle him a little.

“Um, I’d appreciate it.” He admitted. “Though I thought you thought it was a stupid idea.”

“Ah- yes. Well…” Squirrelpaw’s ears flattened and she turned away from him. “Look, Brambleclaw, it’s not that I think trying to save the cats Tigerclaw got killed last time is the wrong thing to do. I just didn’t like the fact that you felt like it was something you _had_ to do.”

Brambleclaw blinked at her. “StarClan said-”

“It’s not about StarClan, though!” She cut him off. “It’s about how you think that because you’re his son, it’s your job to fix the damage he caused. Because you _do_ think that.”

Grinding his teeth, Brambleclaw averted his gaze. The last thing he wanted to do was admit that Squirrelpaw was right. If nothing else, it’d mean that she’d be insufferable for the rest of the day.

“But whatever.” She continued, suddenly, brushing the topic aside. “I guess that’s not important right now. So, your job is to save the cats your father killed in the past?”

Still taken a little aback by her sudden appearance – as well as her sudden change in perspective – Brambleclaw gave no immediate answer. It was only when the tagalong made a coughing sound with her throat and blinked pointedly at him did he realise that she was waiting on an answer.

“Yes- well, it’s more complicated than that.” He admitted, thinking back to what he remembered of his father’s time in the forest. “It wasn’t just that he killed cats directly, although he did that too.” A shudder ran through him as he remembered the glimpse he’d caught of Brindleface’s body, clawed almost to pieces. “It was that his actions led to the deaths of cats. If it hadn’t been for him, things may have been so different.” He thought of wise old Whitestorm, and all the cats that had died in the battle with BloodClan (who his father had brought to the forest to begin with). He thought of Swiftpaw, an apprentice only so much older than Brambleclaw himself at the time, who had died at the terrifying maws of the dog pack. He even thought of Tigerstar – sliced open and dying nine times, his final scheme backfiring on him in the worst possible way. “So much better.”

Squirrelpaw, unperturbed by the bad memories – she hadn’t lived through any of it, after all – didn’t seem to pick up on his distress, and instead leaned forward intently. “So, where do we start?” She demanded.

“I… don’t know.” Brambleclaw meowed, bemusedly. “I’m not sure how far back in the past we are.”

Squirrelpaw’s tail swished from side to side as she considered his point – then, she perked up. “What if I tell you things that have happened? Maybe there’ll be something you recognise.”

“Well, has anything happened?” He responded. Sceptical. If she’d only been in the past for a few days longer than him, it was unlikely that any big events had taken place.

“Well, WindClan’s gone.” She told him. He blinked, not quite sure if he’d heard her right.

“I’m sorry, what?” He repeated. “How can WindClan be…” he trailed off mid-sentence, suddenly remembering. Yes. _Yes_. It was before he’d even been born – Brokenstar, the former leader of ShadowClan, had driven WindClan away from their territory. Why he’d done such a thing, Brambleclaw couldn’t say. But that wasn’t important. The important thing was…

“How long have they been gone?” He asked. Squirrelpaw shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know for sure.” She said. “But Greystripe and my father – that is, the past versions of them – left yesterday on a mission to find them.”

“Yesterday?” Brambleclaw echoed, eagerly piecing together the information from Squirrelpaw. It sounded as though Firestar and Greystripe weren’t in the camp, which would have explained how he hadn’t noticed them the previous day.

Squirrelpaw nodded. “They left right before I came to find you.”

“Right.” Brambleclaw nodded back, hit with the realisation that had things been different, he would have encountered the past version of his leader. He couldn’t say what his reaction would have been – perhaps it was for the best that they hadn’t met, lest Brambleclaw say something about him being the leader and potentially interfere with that aspect of the past.

He thought back to the Fireheart and Firestar that had been his mentor. Younger, less experienced, but with the same energy and drive to help others that he’d taken into his elder years. Time hadn’t changed that aspect of him. And, of course, he’d never trusted Tigerstar from the beginning, had he?

 _As far as allies go, Fireheart would be a good one_ , Brambleclaw mused. _Perhaps what he may already know or suspect about my father can help us prevent him from committing his atrocities in the first place._

“Soo…” Squirrelpaw drawled, interrupting his contemplation. She sounded more impatient then normal, if that was even possible. “Do you know _when_ we are?”

Brambleclaw nodded, absent-mindedly. “Not for sure,” he confessed, “but I remember hearing about this. About Fireheart and Greystripe bringing back WindClan.”

“Well, it’s a start.” Came Squirrelpaw’s response. The tone of her voice sounded flatter, and Brambleclaw looked back at her expecting to see a despondent expression on her face – but he had to have been mistaken, because she looked as anticipatory as previously. “Anything else?”

“The next thing I remember?” Brambleclaw responded. She nodded, and he considered the matter. “Well… I think Brokenstar attacked our camp at some point. He failed, and was imprisoned here, but that does happen. And that was…” He blinked as he remembered something. “Cinderpelt.”

“What?” Echoed Squirrelpaw. “What does she have to do with it?”

“It happened after-” He turned to Squirrelpaw in a hurry. “You know how Cinderpelt has a crippled leg?”

Squirrelpaw nodded.

“Well,” continued Brambleclaw, “she was crippled because she fell into a trap by the thunderpath and was hit by a monster – a trap that my father set.”

“What?” This was news to Squirrelpaw, who blurted the word out loudly. The fur rose on her neck. “Why would he _do_ that? What did- why would he do that to her?”

“I don’t…” Brambleclaw ran his tongue over his muzzle as he tried to recall the details of the incident. Then, in a flash, they came to him. “Because it wasn’t for _her_. He set a trap for Bluestar – Cinderpelt was caught in it instead.”

Squirrelpaw’s mouth hung open in a silent “o”.

“It’s horrible.” Agreed Brambleclaw, hoarsely. “But we can stop it from happening this time.”

“But- do we know when it happens?” Squirrelpaw asked, a hint of desperation in her tone.

“…No, not exactly.” Brambleclaw admitted. “Aside from it being in-between those two events, I can’t- I don’t know.”

For a moment, Squirrelpaw stayed silent, and Brambleclaw worried she’d been totally upset by the news. But then, she squared her shoulders and raised her head.

“Well then,” she meowed, “we’ll just have to keep our eyes out, won’t we?”

In spite of himself, Brambleclaw could help but sigh a little. Not that he was exasperated – _but_ , he thought wryly, _this is Squirrelpaw. I don’t know why I expected anything different_.

“We will.” He confirmed.

It was at that moment that the entrance to the medicine den rustled. Brambleclaw glanced up – and met Tigerclaw’s amber gaze. He froze where he lay, stunned. Tigerclaw didn’t give any real reaction, but instead eyed him for an uncomfortably long moment before turning to the other cat in the room.

“Squirrelpaw.” He rumbled. “You’re with me on dawn patrol.”

In contrast to Brambleclaw himself, Squirrelpaw looked barely startled by Tigerclaw’s surprise appearance. Instead, she nodded briskly and began to pad towards him and the entrance. A few steps in, she turned and glanced back at Brambleclaw. Her gaze was steely, full of determination, and she nodded once at him. He nodded back in a daze. Then, the two were gone, and he was alone again.

How did she do it?

-

How was she going to do it?

Shooting another uneasy glance to the massive cat at her side, Squirrelpaw focused her mind as they padded out of camp. It was all but certain, in her mind, that Tigerclaw was going to probe for information on the future. And she’d been lucky with what she’d been able to tell him previously; a strange truth to throw him off was one thing, however. She couldn’t think of anything else to rattle him in the same way (at least, nothing else that might not be dangerous), and she worried that outright lying to him wasn’t a possibility. Well, _maybe_ it was, but there was a big risk.

More to the point, Brambleclaw’s message from StarClan meant that she could no longer be sure that what she said wouldn’t affect the past. If, for instance, she revealed that her father was clan leader in his time, Tigerclaw might end up changing it! That would be a total disaster. She tilted her head, and glared at an undeserving bush as they passed it by. How was she supposed to handle this situation…?

“Is there something on your mind?” The question came from Tigerclaw, who, she noticed as she looked back at him, was eying her keenly. Despite a lack of real expression on his face, his stare was still chilling, and she repressed a small shudder.

“It turns out,” she informed him, “that getting sent back from your time and into the past is a lot to process.”

He sneered at her.

“It’s been several sunrises.” Came his reply. “I would have thought that you would have processed the event by this point.”

Squirrelpaw did her best to act confidently in the face of his hostility – and, though she said so herself, she had a feeling that it was a good act.

“Well, my friend – your son – just arrived.” She pointed out. “So now, in some ways, everything’s changed again.”

Instead of continuing their conversation directly, Tigerclaw _hmm_ ed and said nothing for a little way. Then:

““friend”?” He echoed; the question technically unspoken but very much apparent.

What was the worst he could gain from knowing, wondered Squirrelpaw. After a moment’s hesitation, she took the plunge.

“Yes.” She confessed. “The two of us went on a long journey, as well as some other cats.” She made sure to keep her words vague, now grateful that Tigerclaw hadn’t remained in the camp for much of her storytelling. “So now we’re friends, I suppose.”

“You _suppose_.” Came Tigerclaw’s reply. “I would have thought that it was obvious, from how you were so eager to find him yesterday that you snuck out of the camp. Without alerting me.”

In hindsight, Squirrelpaw should have definitely seen this conversation coming. Whether Tigerclaw cared or not about her wellbeing, she had no idea, but she figured that at the very least, he would need to keep up the persona of a mentor of sorts – to prevent her from getting suspicious, presumably. (It was bad luck for him that she was already fully aware of his potential for scum and villainy.)

“I don’t know what you may have been taught in your time,” Tigerclaw growled, “though I’m sure that your father set you a suitably poor example. But typically, an apprentice listens to their mentor. And though ours is far from the typical relationship between mentor and apprentice, there are still certain standards that I expect to be upheld. Do I make myself clear?”

 _Perfectly_ , thought Squirrelpaw, who was struggling to resist the urge to claw off the bigger cat’s whiskers. Bad enough that she’d had such a lecture many times already, from Dustpelt, but she found it irritating that she was receiving a lecture on good behaviour from a cat whose actions could probably all be categorized as anything but.

“Yes, Tigerclaw.” She forced her voice to keep level. To at least pretend to be obedient.

Tigerclaw nodded wordlessly, and for a moment after that, their patrol remained quiet. However, his curiosity was apparently overwhelming – after wordlessly opening and closing his mouth, he asked:

“It’s curious that you and my son are indeed friends. I would have thought- but, well I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Well, maybe “curiosity” wasn’t exactly the right word for it. Was he trying to bait her into talking? Rationalizing it on the grounds that if she didn’t reply, he might find it suspicious, she took the bait.

“What doesn’t matter?” She asked.

Tigerclaw glanced at her, and then back away, towards the forest.

“Your father,” he meowed, his voice almost _quivering_ , for some reason, “has never seen me as a clanmate. He’s held a grudge against me for many a moon, and I feared that we would never see any reconciliation. The fact that our kits turn out to be friends… I suppose, it is a sign that things eventually improve.”

 _What tall tale is he spinning_? Squirrelpaw thought to herself. But, as she thought about it, it made sense. If Tigerclaw wanted to know about the future, undermining her trust in her father and also trying to make him appear more innocent then he actually was probably a safe bet. That being said, his plan had a flaw; she knew his character, and she could see exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t as though she was new to lies herself, after all.

“Um.” She blustered, consequentially not sure how to address the situation. “Yes. I suppose it does.”

He eyed her.

“You are aware of the conflict between us, then?” He asked.

“You could say that.” Deadpanned Squirrelpaw, who had been raised on tales of his villainy. Tigerclaw must have seen something in her expression, because he exhaled harshly.

“Your father must have raised you to doubt me.” He sighed, faux melancholy leaking from every word. But then, he faced her with a glint in his eyes. “But how much of the story do you really know?”

“What do I really know?” She repeated. Now, how was she supposed to answer _that_ question? “Well, I know… that you two never got along… my father…” She hesitated. What was vague enough that she could say it without letting him know anything about the future? “He always felt that you were… harsh towards him.”

“Harsh?” Repeated Tigerclaw, pausing as if to consider the world. “Well, I suppose it could have been perceived that way, yes. But Squirrelpaw; “harsh” is subjective. Our way of life is a harsh one, and it may has well have been your father’s own soft roots, as well as my treatment of him, that would lead to him reaching such a conclusion.”

“Soft roots?” Squirrelpaw echoed, incredulously. The phrase didn’t seem to match. Her father was a great leader, and a noble warrior! How anyone could perceive him as soft, she didn’t know.

“You are aware, I presume, that he was born a kittypet in Twolegplace.” Deadpanned Tigerclaw. Squirrelpaw blinked. She _had_ known that, yes.

“I am.” She confirmed. Tigerclaw nodded.

“There is all the difference in the world between a clanborn cat and a kittypet, Squirrelpaw.” He told her. “Cats born outside the clans… there are certain aspects of warrior life that will remain unattainable to them. They possess no warrior ancestors, and noble blood does not run through their veins.”

Squirrelpaw bristled. “And what does that make me, then? A kittypet’s kit?”

Tigerclaw eyed her, disdainfully. “I presume that your mother was clanborn? Or am I to hear that your father broke _that_ rule, too?”

“I- no.” Squirrelpaw blustered. “She’s clanborn.”

Tigerclaw nodded. “Then, faint though as it may be, the blood of a warrior still does run through your veins.”

The thought that it was only one aspect of her heritage that let Tigerclaw have any respect for her sent a shiver down Squirrelpaw’s spine.

“So… what?” Squirrelpaw ventured. “You think that because of where my father was born, he can never be a full warrior?”

“Oh, Bluestar has seen fit to deign him with a warrior name.” Tigerclaw admitted. “But he will never grow so strong, become so adept that he will surpass his “clanmates”. He will forever be held back by his heritage.” He turned to glance at her. “At least, that is my belief. Will the future prove me wrong?”

More than anything, Squirrelpaw wanted to say yes. To yell at him that far from falling, her father was the greatest warrior of them all – the next leader of the clan. But she just _knew_ that to reveal such information to Tigerclaw, a scheming, conniving, jealous lump of a cat, could only lead to trouble. And so, she bit her tongue and averted her gaze.

Tigerclaw must have perceived her silence as acceptance of the truth of his argument – he ran his tail across her flank it what may have passed for a comforting gesture (although, in truth, it more disturbed Squirrelpaw then anything else).

“It is not your father’s fault he is the way that he is.” He told her. “StarClan knows, Bluestar and I tried to train him in the ways of the warrior code. But that weakness, and that arrogance… some things are too innate to remove.”

Squirrelpaw stared at the ground, not trusting herself to speak.

“Now,” Tigerclaw meowed as he rose, “I have one more question about the future, if you don’t mind.”

She wordlessly looked up at him.

“Is Bluestar still the leader of ThunderClan in your time?”

Squirrelpaw blinked. “Why… why do you want to know that?” She asked back, stalling for time.

Tigerclaw’s response was to shrug coolly. “I am deputy, after all. If I am to become the clan’s next leader, it is important that I prepare myself for the task at hand. If I find out from you that I still have time, then there’s no problem.”

Squirrelpaw let out a low hum as she thought. Off the top of her head, she couldn’t think of a way to sufficiently bend the truth to satisfy him – or, at least, she suspected that he would ask follow-up questions if she revealed the truth. Unless…?

“Well, yes, I’m afraid…” She added a pause, as though the words were painful. “In my time, Bluestar isn’t alive. She has gone to join our warrior ancestors.” The “warrior ancestors” bit, she figured, was a nice touch – emphasise the shared values between her and Tigerclaw, so that he’d be less inclined to distrust her.

Tigerclaw bowed his head low.

“Though I expected as much, given how far away from our time you are from, it is still sad to hear.” He rumbled. “I’m sure that the clan mourns her each day.”

“Oh, yes.” Agreed Squirrelpaw. “She was a wise and noble leader. The ThunderClan of my time has nothing but praise for her.”

Tigerclaw’s eye twinged a little. Squirrelpaw… noticed this.

“Her wisdom, her compassion, her strength.” She began to blather on. “Her always knowing the right decision to make under any circumstances. Her determination. Her resilience. Her objective decision-making skills. Her-”

“Yes, well.” Tigerclaw (who her father had told her, had lost respect for Bluestar as a leader over time) cleared his through, sounding vaguely hurried. “I presume it was I who took up the mantle of leadership, then?”

“Oh, you did, yes.” Squirrelpaw meowed. It wasn’t even a lie – he _had_ become Tigerstar, leader of ShadowClan, apparently. “As of now, ThunderClan is ruled by a capable, respectable leader, who is renowned throughout the clans for bringing peace to the forest.”

Tigerclaw eyed her again. It was an interesting expression – she could tell that he was genuinely curious, yet trying to play it off as if he wasn’t, yet also… displaying his yearning for knowledge, almost in a self-aware sort of fashion. It was a peculiar set of signals, but Squirrelpaw was never one to deny the people what they wanted, and so she added: “Why, Tigerclaw – that is to say, Tiger _star_ , seeing as how that’s your name in my time – I daresay you will be remembered for generations to come.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tigerclaw: so am I a sexy beast of a leader or what  
> Squirrelpaw: I'm about to embellish this man's whole career


	16. The one where Sandpaw has multiple crises and Squirrelpaw has to deal with her family being idiots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE DELAY LADS
> 
> I was hoping to get more written during the holidays, but the lack of a real schedule might be getting in the way of that xD At the very least, we have some (I think!) good developments during this chapter. I'll try and get the next one out quicker. Thanks for the comments @y'all! ^_^

**16**

It was still early in the morning when Sandpaw found herself roused from her slumber, with orders that she would be on the morning patrol that day. Bleary, she blinked the sleep from her eyes as she traversed the apprentice’s den, accidentally stepping on Squirrelpaw’s tail on the way out. (Fortunately, the other apprentice hadn’t woken up, although she had hissed and said “Go _away_ , Crowpaw!” out loud.)

“Good morning.” Her mentor, Whitestorm, greeted her with an amused purr as she stumbled towards the rest of the patrol, who were already gathered by the entrance to the camp. She ignored the heat of embarrassment under her fur at her disarrayed state, and instead attempted to stand herself up straight. She was almost a warrior! She couldn’t be so disorganised when it was her duty to patrol for her clan!

“Where are we going?” She asked, ignoring her mentor. Tigerclaw, standing at the head of the patrol, harrumphed in his usual manner.

“We’re patrolling the RiverClan border.” He explained. “We’re going to renew the scent markers, and then we’re going to make sure that there’s no sign of ShadowClan scent anywhere on the territory.”

“Why would there be?” Sandpaw asked, confused. “Their deal is over now that Brokenstar’s gone. RiverClan shouldn’t let ShadowClan on their land anymore.”

“We hope not,” the last member of the patrol – Willowpelt – mowed, “but Bluestar wants to know for certain. ShadowClan may have promised to keep to their own territory, but for all we know, they’re still desperate enough to try it.”

“Not to mention,” Tigerclaw interjected, still scowling, “that at the most recent gathering, neither RiverClan nor ShadowClan liked the idea of WindClan returning. That common ground may well be grounds for an alliance between the two in the future. If it _is_ going to happen, we’re doing to need every advantage we can get; and that includes finding out about it as soon as possible.”

“Oh.” Sandpaw blinked at the lengthy explanation, before hissing to herself at the reminder that she hadn’t been able to go to this most recent gathering. “Well, I wouldn’t have known. I wasn’t _at_ the gathering.”

“Sandpaw.” Whitestorm admonished gently as the patrol began to walk out of the entrance.

“Sorry, Whitestorm.” She sighed.

The day was looking to be a long one.

As their patrol progressed, from the ThunderClan camp all the way to the RiverClan border, Sandpaw slowly stewed in her irritation. Tigerclaw’s mentioning of the gathering had reminded her that she hadn’t been allowed to go, which in turn had led her thoughts down a rabbit hole of dissatisfaction and disgruntlement. Frustration at not yet being a warrior, at not being powerful or important – or, at least, not important _enough_ that anyone would think to directly tell her news in regards to the clan. No, she always had to wait for Bluestar’s announcements, or for senior warriors to provide her with explanations or offhand remarks.

She’d been cautioned before on the risks of being too ambitious, of course – that a cat’s duty was to their clan, and that to be self-serving to the point of neglecting your duties would never lead to anything good. But she still clung to that drive, that desire to better herself and become stronger. If cats like Tigerclaw, who were so ambitious, could still fight for the clan and rise through its ranks, then so could she. This rang especially true for cats like Tigerclaw, she reasoned, what with his ambition being as much centred around the betterment of the clan then of himself.

The question was, how was she supposed to fight for the clan if she was unhappy with it, in some way?

The first point of contention she’d experienced had been Fireheart – Fire _paw_ , then – ‘s introduction to the clan. How Bluestar had let in a stranger with no blood ties to the clan, no inherent belief in or knowledge of StarClan or the Warrior Code. It had gone against everything Sandpaw had known at the time, and she had never gotten over it. Though, in hindsight, she had reacted too harshly to his presence, she would never apologize for such behaviour either. She had been a child; how was she supposed to know that the kittypet would, in the end, actually stay in the clan and prove himself a warrior?

That was the next point of contention, though. He and Greystripe, though younger than Sandpaw and Dustpaw, had become warriors already. _That_ rankled with her in a way that she couldn’t remember anything else doing. Just because they’d been in the right place at the right time, and had participated in the battle to drive out Brokenstar, they’d been promoted to warriors? She’d have found it easier to get over if the pair had been dutiful apprentices, but she could only ever remember them and Ravenpaw messing around and not taking their duties seriously. Gorging themselves on prey? Scaring her and Dustpaw with a snake? They’d _never_ taken it as seriously as she and had, and now they outranked her!

The sudden flash of fury was lost in introspection as she remembered Ravenpaw. Perhaps… perhaps it was because he’d died, that they’d been given their warrior names. That Bluestar had pitied them, and offered them the consolation of warriorship in exchange for their untimely loss. That, she supposed, was… well, _was_ it fair? Would that have been appropriate of Bluestar, to use the bestowal of a warrior’s name – arguably the most important part of a clan cat’s life – as a way of deflecting attention from the death of an apprentice? (Assuming, of course, she had.) Sandpaw wasn’t sure. And that only added itself to her list of gripes with the clan.

It all just frustrated her, and then frustrated her even _more_ as she struggled to come to terms with the problems and find a way to reconcile them in her mind with the clan she was supposed to serve. How could she be a totally loyal warrior when cats like Fireheart simply coasted by? What was she supposed to do?

Her thoughts quietened down all of a sudden, and she blinked and focused on the sight in front of her. It was Tigerclaw, his ears pricked, tail-tip twitching. Whitestorm, she noticed, was glancing at him quizzically, but Willowpelt’s eyes were narrowed. What was happening?

“Something’s happening over there.” Tigerclaw rasped, suddenly. “There’s a fight.” And without saying another word, he plunged into RiverClan territory and began to pelt along the edge of the river. After a moment’s hesitation, Willowpelt followed. Sandpaw shared a glance with her mentor, but all Whitestorm did was shrug apologetically, a steel glint in his normally warm eyes, before taking off on the heels of the other warriors – leaving Sandpaw to bring up the rear.

At first, she couldn’t make heads or tails of what Tigerclaw was doing – why was a fight deep in RiverClan territory any of their business? But then she picked up the scents – as well as RiverClan, there was ThunderClan, and also another that she didn’t recognise. Could it be WindClan?

Bursting onto the scene, she saw the answer. Fireheart, Greystripe, and two unfamiliar cats were fighting a RiverClan patrol, tussling on near the edge of the gorge. Even as she watched, the rest of her patrol fell on the RiverClan cats, surprising them, and suddenly she had to act. She leapt with all her might and collided with a RiverClan she-cat – but the enemy warrior had seen her coming, and instead of barrelling into a surprised enemy, Sandpaw found herself practically jumping onto her opponent’s claws.

Hissing and reeling, she ducked her head and lashed out at her opponent, who responded by grappling her and pinning her to the ground. She kicked out and tore at her opponent’s flank, but she was rewarded for her trouble with a bite to the shoulder. Wailing in pain, she tried to twist herself free, and ended up almost wrenching the RiverClan cat over. Thinking quickly, she tried to get upright – but her opponent flipped her back over, pushing her across the grass and clawing at her. She hissed in fury.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Fireheart appeared, barrelling the RiverClan warrior off of her. She scrabbled backwards from the sudden action – he, instead of backing off, instead lunged forward and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. She squealed with rage as he dragged her forwards, presumably away from the gorge. Though she attempted to wriggle out of his grip, he was strong, and she was forced to allow herself to be humiliatingly pulled across the battlefield, like a wayward kit. Her fury came back full force. How _dare_ he! Bad enough he exist, and get his warrior name before her, and have a daughter that travelled through time, but _now_ he was actively interfering with her attempts to fight for her clan, as well?

As soon as she felt him stop, she sprang to her feet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so angry.

“I can win my own battles without your help!” She spat at him.

Fireheart opened his mouth, and Sandpaw almost relished the idea of him saying something to her, just so she could argue against it – but then, a terrible howl. Turning, she saw Greystripe leaning over the side of the cliff, pawing at something. Sandpaw didn’t understand. Was he trying to push his opponent off? But then, he cried out, and his wail echoed around the gorge, and Sandpaw felt her stomach sink lower and lower. Around them, the battle ceased, as cats from all clans turned to stare at Greystripe.

Fireheart stepped away from Sandpaw and padded towards the gorge, joining the cats from RiverClan in craning his neck over the side and watching whatever was happening. Hissing in pain, she stumbled on her feet and began to pad towards the cluster of cats, but then one of the RiverClan warriors lifted her head and yowled:

“Whiteclaw! No!”

Sandpaw stopped dead in her tracks, the reality of the situation hitting her. A cat had fallen. A cat had died. The gorge…

Sandpaw slowly turned around, staring dumbly at the cliff Fireheart had, she now realised, dragged her away from.

A cat had died.

That could so easily have been her.

Ignoring the sounds of dismay around her, she padded to the edge of the gorge, and stared at the raging waters below – frothing waves, craggy rocks barely peeking out from above the surf, raging currents. Thought of falling down there herself. Shuddered. Didn’t look away.

Everything else was a blur. Greystripe said something, and then the same RiverClan cat said something, and then one of the WindClan cats said something, and then their patrol was making its way back to the ThunderClan camp. She didn’t even move until Whitestorm brushed his tail against her shoulder, jolting her out of her reverie and back to reality. It didn’t seem to matter. Suddenly, little seemed to matter at all.

She’d come so close to dying. So close to it all ending in a single moment. What were worth all her ambitions and hopes and frustrations when they could so easily be snuffed out? Limping in a hurry to keep up with the patrol, she sighed through her teeth. To her, death had never seemed as great an adversary as it did in that moment. And…

Turning her head from side to side, she couldn’t even catch sight of him. Her _rescuer_. The thought made her sick and angry and guilty all at once. She’d never treated him well, never paid him respect as a warrior and clanmate. And he hadn’t cared, or had at least been willing to look past it. He’d saved her life anyway. And from now on, every thought she had, every step she took, every battle she fought, would all be because of him.

_…What in StarClan’s name was she supposed to do now?_

-

“Good morning, Brambleclaw!” Squirrelpaw called as she entered the medicine den, leisurely stretching her tail as she looked for her friend. It wasn’t difficult to spot him – he apparently hadn’t moved since the previous day, and was lying asleep in his nest. However, as she saw him, his eyes fluttered open, and he yawned.

“I… Squirrelpaw?” He asked, blearily.

She nodded. “The one and only!”

Rather then leap up to greet her – or at least be enthused – he instead rolled his eyes.

“The one and only pain in my tail, more like.” He muttered, just loudly enough for her to hear.

“I- hey!” She marched behind him and began to headbutt his shoulders. “That’s no way to greet a friend in the morning!”

“Waking me up from a dream is no way to greet a friend, either.” Yawned Brambleclaw. Upon hearing this, Squirrelpaw quickly leapt back in front of him, suddenly fixated on what he had to say.

“A dream?” She echoed. “What was it about? Was it another one from StarClan? Did they have anything else to tell us?” The curiosity burned at her – though she was no longer outright angry at the reality of the conflicting messages she and Brambleclaw had received, she was still no closer to figuring out what it all meant. Instead of launching into an explanation, however, Brambleclaw simply yawned again.

“No, it was just a regular dream.” He explained, tone lethargic.

Squirrelpaw whacked him on the head with her tail. Ignoring his hiss of pain, she told him: “I thought StarClan had given you answers! If it was just a normal dream, why didn’t you say so?”

“I just did!” Brambleclaw retorted, rising from his nest to his full height. He did his best to look stern, although the faint purr emanating from him dampened his attempts. “That was just your fault for getting ahead of yourself.”

“Oh, you’re blaming me now?” Squirrelpaw dropped into a hunter’s crouch in front of him; a joking replica of an attack stance. “You play a risky game, Brambleclaw.”

“I’ve seen riskier.” Brambleclaw retorted, standing up straight and turning up his nose.

“And who _saved_ you from riskier?” Was Squirrelpaw’s own response. “Who saved you from drowning at the sun-drown place? Who saved you from Sharptooth? Who-”

“Who followed me on a StarClan-given quest and got herself caught in a twoleg contraption?” Interrupted Brambleclaw, looking too pleased with himself. “I don’t know, Squirrelpaw, who did those things?”

Rather than answer with words, Squirrelpaw decided that the best course of action was to playfully lunge at Brambleclaw, batting him with sheathed claws. She noticed as she did so that he didn’t wince, and he wasn’t slowed as he jumped backwards out of his nest (now properly awake) – his wounds looked to be healing well.

“Squirrelpaw,” Brambleclaw meowed, “don’t we want to be practical, and try to figure out what our next course of action is?” His voice sounded a little more serious now. “We still don’t know how we’re going to change the past.”

“We can afford to have a _little_ fun, though.” Squirrelpaw argued. “Besides, StarClan told _me_ that the future would be the same when I get back. Maybe that’s just how it’ll be, and there’s nothing we need to worry about.”

“Well, we don’t know that.” Came Brambleclaw’s reply.

“We don’t _not_ know that.” Squirrelpaw mewed, realising the moment the words left her mouth that they didn’t necessarily make sense. Brambleclaw untensed, and blinked at her quizzically.

“…That doesn’t make sense.” He meowed after a moment’s hesitation. Squirrelpaw arched her back at him.

“Of course it makes sense!” She protested. The confusion was clear on Brambleclaw’s face, and she had to suppress a laugh.

“Of course _what_ makes sense?”

Turning in time with Brambleclaw, Squirrelpaw saw Yellowfang emerge from another segment of the medicine den, squinting at the two young cats blearily. After a moment’s observation, she released a breath that sounded suspiciously like a scoff, and padded towards Brambleclaw – who looked chagrined, a little like a kit that was on the verge of being scolded by a parent.

“Nothing, Yellowfang.” He murmured as the old medicine cat began checking over his wounds. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m not the one you may have to be apologizing to.” Yellowfang deadpanned. “If your activity has re-opened these scratches, you’re going to regret it.”

Squirrelpaw winced at the prospect (the idea of Brambleclaw being forced to spend _more_ time in the medicine den just sounded miserable to her), and remained unusually quiet as Yellowfang finished checking over Brambleclaw’s wounds. However, luck appeared to have won out – despite his jumping around, the wounds remained closed and bound.

“Well, that’s alright then.” Yellowfang meowed noncommittedly, leaning back and licking one of her paws. “Just be careful, for StarClan’s sake. You fought four warriors single-handedly – a lesser cat may well have been killed.”

“Well, he wasn’t.” Squirrelpaw interjected, before Brambleclaw could say anything – she wasn’t a fan of dwelling on less pleasant possibilities, especially if they involved someone she cared about dying. “So, it’s alright?”

Yellowfang rolled her eyes.

“Yes, he’s not in any _immediate_ danger.” She sighed. “Perhaps when he re-opens those wounds while messing around with you, _you_ can patch them up!”

“Sorry, Yellowfang.” Brambleclaw apologized again, sounding unusually contrite. Yellowfang squinted at him suspiciously, but must have seen something in his gaze, because her expression softened after a moment.

“Who am I to stop young cats enjoying themselves?” She mused. Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw shared a glance – the notion seemed uncharacteristically thoughtful of her.

“And I suppose, if they injure themselves being fools, that’s hardly my problem.” She continued, suddenly sounding much more in line with the Yellowfang that Squirrelpaw knew. “If, after all, they’ve been properly cautioned, then it is no longer the medicine cat’s responsibility to tend to however they may get themselves hurt later on.”

“I don’t think that’s how-” Brambleclaw began to speak, but Squirrelpaw held her tail in front of his muzzle.

“Thank you, Yellowfang.” She meowed. “We promise to be careful. Don’t we, Brambleclaw?”

“Yes?” Brambleclaw’s affirmation sounded more like a question then anything else, but it was apparently enough for Yellowfang, who shrugged and turned to head back inside the medicine den.

“Don’t have too much fun, now.” She called over her shoulder.

Squirrelpaw watched Yellowfang leave – as soon as the elder medicine cat was gone, she swatted Brambleclaw’s shoulder again.

“Squirrelpaw-!” Brambleclaw meowed in surprise, but he wasn’t really angry, she could tell.

“Just take the morning off.” She urged him. “You need to rest.”

“And running around with you is supposed to be restful?” Brambleclaw joked.

“Well…” Squirrelpaw hesitated. Privately, her main concern was that Brambleclaw was going to just keep thinking about the prophecies, and his new StarClan-given duty, and not dedicate time to anything else. It seemed like something he’d do, anyway. And she didn’t think that it’d be healthy, obsessing over one thing. But, of course, she couldn’t say out loud – for one thing, if Brambleclaw knew she was actively trying to distract him from that, he might not appreciate it, and for another thing, she still wasn’t used to being totally emotionally earnest in her friendships. (The previous days, during which she’d been happy to see him again after spending time in the past where she knew no-one, were outliers.)

Instead of giving him a comprehensive answer, she swatted at him again, and then ran to the entrance of the medicine den. “Come _on_ , Brambleclaw.” She urged him. “Live a little!”

“I live plenty.” He grumbled, but to her joy, he shook himself out and then bounded forwards after her. Cackling, she ran through the entrance and out into the main camp. She looked behind her, trying to spot Brambleclaw in pursuit – and ran smack into another cat, bouncing backwards and almost falling on the floor. Looking up, her mouth was open and a barb was on the tip of her tongue, but the words died as she caught sight of Fireheart standing in front of her, staring at her in what almost looked like shock.

“Father!” She blurted out. “I- you’re back!”

He blinked, and then warmth filled his gaze.

“Hey.” He meowed. “I’m-” Then, suddenly, he looked up, and his eyes widened. Time seemed to slow down as he stepped forward, almost barrelling Squirrelpaw out of the way in his apparent haste to get behind her. Turning around, confused, Squirrelpaw saw Brambleclaw, who’d apparently been right behind her, skid to a halt in front of Fireheart, his facial expression quickly morphing into one of shock.

“Tigerclaw!” Squirrelpaw heard her father hiss, and the pain that flashed across Brambleclaw’s features was unmistakable. He hunched over, cowed.

“…Firestar?” He meowed, in a voice that was startlingly small – Squirrelpaw herself barely heard the word. Her father didn’t react (or, at least, she didn’t see him reacting), and she took her chance to intervene while both parties were quietened.

“Oh, father, this is Brambleclaw!” She darted in-between the two larger cats, nervously switching her attention between the two of them. Fireheart was still doing his best to glare at Brambleclaw, but now looked confused – Brambleclaw still looked like he’d just been told that someone he loved had died. “Apparently, I’m not the only cat to get sent forward from the future! You remember him, right? I was telling the story of the journey? I know you missed most of it, but I know I mentioned him to you at some point.”

Fireheart remained silent, even as other cats began to gather. Squirrelpaw noticed a patrol’s worth of cats making their way around – had a patrol met up with Fireheart and Greystripe on the way back from their mission? She saw Tigerclaw, half on his way to Bluestar’s den, stop and stare at them. Though he was far away enough that he wouldn’t have heard them, the thought of him finding out that it was her father who was the clan’s leader in the future still sent a chill through her.

“And yes,” Squirrelpaw continued, resolutely, “he _is_ Tigerclaw’s son, I didn’t mention that and I can see why that might be surprising. But I-”

“Woah.” Came a new voice. Turning around, Squirrelpaw saw Greystripe staring at the scene. There was a fatigue in his frame that made him barely recognisable, and instead of the wry tone she’d expect from him, he instead just sounded stunned and tired. “Did I hit my head? Because I can see another Tigerclaw standing over there.”

Squirrelpaw saw Brambleclaw turn his head to catch a glimpse of Greystripe – if anything, his expression only grew more pained, and Squirrelpaw struggled to decipher why until he realised that he, too, had been on the mission that had seen Greystripe get taken away by the monsters, back in their own time. And this was his first time seeing Greystripe since then – of _course_ that’d be the first thing he thought of!

“You didn’t hit your head, Greystripe.” Squirrelpaw did her best to reassure him. “Another cat just came from the future, that’s all.”

Greystripe blinked like he didn’t fully understand what she was saying to him.

Fireheart opened his mouth, but then Tigerclaw, walking past the scene, called out to him. “Fireheart! Greystripe! Come with me.” Clamping his mouth shut, her father, stalked away after Tigerclaw, still eying Brambleclaw with an undecipherable gaze. Brambleclaw just kept staring back, looking grieved. Greystripe followed a moment later – his movements were slow, weighted down by some unseen pressure, and even as she watched, she saw Fireheart push himself against Greystripe, as if to support him.

Squirrelpaw fought down a sigh. Why did things have to be so complicated?

-

 _Firestar_.

Logically, it was unsurprising that that would stick with him out of everything that had happened so far that day, but it was still a shock to stop and consider. As Fireheart made his way to Bluestar’s den, sticking close to Greystripe in an attempt to alleviate his friend’s guilt, he couldn’t stop thinking.

Another cat had travelled through time, had been thrown backwards from the future, and this time it had been Tigerclaw’s son. “Brambleclaw”. He could certainly see the resemblance – he’d mistaken the cat for his father when he’d first seen him, and an awful vision had immediately flooded his mind of Tigerclaw chasing Squirrelpaw for whatever reason, with intent to kill. His fears over Redtail’s death, and what Tigerclaw had meant to do to Ravenpaw, had emerged full-force, and he’d tried to protect his daughter on a whim. He wasn’t sure if those were supposed to be parental instincts, or if he was just afraid enough of Tigerclaw that he would automatically assume the worst by this point.

And- well, yes, he had remembered the name “Brambleclaw”, but Squirrelpaw _definitely_ hadn’t mentioned that he had been Tigerclaw’s son. Why? Had she kept it from him on purpose, or had it just slipped his mind? He wasn’t sure which option had him more spooked, but either way, the most pressing question that had arisen from _that_ revelation was the question of how, exactly, had their kits become such good friends when there had been such strong animosity between the fathers? He supposed there were multiple possibilities, but he wasn’t sure what the details of said possibilities could have been; his mind was, for the most part, fixated on what this “Brambleclaw” had called him.

Firestar.

As in, leader.

Was ThunderClan’s leadership in his future?

It didn’t seem possible. As deputy, Tigerclaw was to become the leader of ThunderClan once Bluestar died, and it seemed highly unlikely that the great warrior would ever pick him for a deputy, considering the animosity between them. So, what had happened in the future, that had led to him ascending to the role of deputy? He couldn’t for the life of him understand. Had him and Tigerclaw come to some kind of understanding? Had something happened to Tigerclaw, meaning that some other cat ended up becoming deputy and then leader? He didn’t know. And why hadn’t Squirrelpaw told him, considering how casual she had been about revealing so many other aspects of the future? Was there something about his leadership that was wrong, or unnatural? Was it shameful, in some way? Worry flooded him as he considered all the possibilities.

“Welcome!” Bluestar’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. They were in her den – she’d leapt up to greet them. “Did you find WindClan? Did you bring them back?”

“…Yes, Bluestar.” He managed to reply, after a moment’s hesitation. “They’re safe in their camp.” He ran his tongue over his muzzle, still feeling almost too shocked to speak. “Tallstar told me to thank you.” He added, after another moment of silence.

Bluestar nodded. “Good.” She meowed – but Fireheart could see her energy draining away. Evidently, she was taking in the state of the cats in front of her. Greystripe exhausted, Fireheart apparently stunned, and Tigerclaw grave. Her eyes darkened.

“What has happened?” She asked, sounding much sterner than she had previously.

-

“Brambleclaw. _Brambleclaw_.”

After the confrontation with Fireheart, Brambleclaw had slunk back into the medicine den, presumably to pout. Squirrelpaw had followed him in, trying to convince him otherwise, but he’d sunken back down in his nest, all energy gone.

“Brambleclaw, please.” Squirrelpaw insisted, ignoring the wave of self-consciousness that came with actually saying “please” to someone. “It was an accident, right? Mistaken identity? He’s never even met you before, it was just a misunderstanding.”

“…I’ve been through this already.” Came his soft reply. Squirrelpaw blinked at him. Brambleclaw turned to look at her, and his eyes were agonised. “I’ve already had to fight to break out of my father’s influence.” He explained. “To prove to him that I’m more than that, and that I’m better than that. And now…” He trailed off. “Now I’m back where I started.”

“I-” Squirrelpaw began, but stopped. She had no idea how to handle this situation – the relationship between Brambleclaw and her father in her time ran deep, she knew, and its foundations had been laid down before she’d even been born. She had no idea what to say, or how to help reconcile them.

“And…” Brambleclaw sighed through suddenly gritted teeth. “I’m such an idiot. I called him “Firestar”.”

Squirrelpaw blinked. That was right. He _had_.

“Well…” She hesitated. Frustration flooded her; she was normally so much better at knowing what to say! But the situation was just… so strange, and so awkward, and she was so out of her depth. She felt as though she didn’t have the words.

Feeling lost, she gave Brambleclaw what she hoped came across as a comforting lick, and then turned tail and padded out of the den. Though it upset her to leave him in such a state, she knew better then to hang around like a dead mouse when there was nothing else she could do.

 Meandering across the camp in a depressed daze, she narrowly avoided crashing into a cat for the second time that morning – this time, she caught sight of Sandpaw, who looked just as detached from reality as she felt.

“Hey, Sandpaw.” She raised her tail in greeting. Sandpaw, instead of replying, stared at her dumbly, long enough that Squirrelpaw began to feel horrendously awkward. But then, she sighed.

“Hey, Squirrelpaw.” She murmured. Then, she began to walk past, onto wherever she’d been heading. Squirrelpaw watched her go, bemused. All hints of her mother’s spunk, or even irritation, seemed to have evaporated, and been replaced by a… by a grey, emotionless mess.

What in StarClan’s name was happening to everyone?

Helpless, she wandered over to the fresh-kill pile, and began looking through it for something to feed herself with. At that moment, however, she caught sight of Fireheart and Greystripe leaving Bluestar’s den. She trotted over to them.

“Father!” She greeted. “Is, um… is everything alright?”

Greystripe didn’t even react to her presence; Fireheart, at least, rose his head and dipped it slightly in greeting. He looked as though he was in a daze.

“It’s alright.” He said. “Just strange, is all.”

““Strange”?” Echoed Squirrelpaw, suddenly on edge. Was this about “Firestar”? Had he heard Brambleclaw call him that? Ignoring a nervous flick of her tail, she began to brace herself for a conversation on the subject. But instead, Fireheart said:

“We’re getting apprentices. Me and Greystripe. The ceremony’s at moonhigh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart: "Leader? Mentor? Too much responsibility, fugue state entered"  
> Greystripe: "...............I have killed"  
> Sandpaw: *having a morality crisis and a mortality crisis all at once*  
> Brambleclaw: *trauma intensifies*  
> Squirrelpaw: "I hate this fucking family"


	17. The one where Squirrelpaw begins to sort things out and Sandpaw helps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay caramba, this difficulty in keeping up a decent publishing rate almost makes me want education to start back up, so I have something that makes me think "huh I'd rather be writing" xDD
> 
> Speaking of publishing chapters of fanfiction, if any of y'all read "Ouroboros" - DON'T PANIC! :P The author has been having some issues with their internet recently (which is especially problematic considering that they write using google docs), but they're still hard at work on the next chapter! :D

**17**

Squirrelpaw had this much to say about the apprentice ceremony – it certainly hadn’t been _boring_.

For one thing, it had been surreal to see the kits that she knew would grow up to be Brackenfur and Cinderpelt as, well, kits. Despite all the differences that came with his lack of experience, Fireheart in this time still very much resembled the Firestar of hers, and Sandpaw still had echoes of Sandstorm. But these were kits! The bumbling, fluffy grey kit particularly didn’t at all resemble the wise-beyond-her-years medicine cat that Squirrelpaw knew she would become. She’d had to suppress a gasp when she’d seen Cinderkit walking on all four legs without a care in the world, unhampered by the limp that she’d had for as long as Squirrelpaw had been able to remember.

For another thing, her father had technically mucked up his ceremony – he hadn’t initially touched noses with Cinderpaw, as was the custom when a mentor and an apprentice were assigned to one another, and when he’d realised his mistake, he’d over-compensated and he’d ended up bashing his nose into Cinderpaw’s by mistake. It had been hilarious to watch, especially considering the cat she knew he’d become. She’d almost laughed out loud, but had been distracted by sneering at that cat Darkstripe, who’d been in turn sneering at her father.

 _Darkstripe_ … Brambleclaw had mentioned him. He’d been loyal to Tigerclaw until his death, in the BloodClan battle. Personally, Squirrelpaw didn’t think anyone would miss him if he died a bit sooner than that, but she wasn’t going to murder a cat for getting on her nerves. (Aside from being totally barbaric and unjustified, it’d be very inconvenient to try and pretend it hadn’t been her.) Besides, killing cats for being an annoyance was socially acceptable, then by all accounts, she’d be dead several times over.

Anyway, she’d been busy pointedly glaring at him, and had been distracted from the ceremony. By the time she’d refocused, Fireheart and Greystripe were standing proudly with their apprentices, and the rest of the clan was shouting their approval. And that had been that.

As her father hopped towards the warrior’s den, to rest for the night before taking up his duties as a mentor the next day, she ran past him and stood in front of him, blocking his way.

“Hello, father.” She greeted, breathlessly.

“…Hello.” Fireheart responded. The weariness on his face was clear, and for a moment, Squirrelpaw felt a flash of guilt over trying to engage with him when he so clearly wanted to rest. However, she was also determined to see her plan through.

“Could you come with me, for just a moment?” She asked quickly, turning and beginning to lead her father to the medicine den before he could properly reply. It was likely the fatigue, but he didn’t raise an argument, and instead just bowed his head and moved after her. She shot him a worried glance; he’d seemed off since returning from the WindClan mission, and she didn’t know enough about the past to know whether or not it was _supposed_ to be like that. She’d picked up something about a RiverClan warrior dying, but she couldn’t understand why her father would be so upset about that; she couldn’t remember him having many close friends in RiverClan (aside from maybe their deputy, Mistyfoot).

She led him across the camp and towards the medicine den, where Brambleclaw, at her behest, was waiting outside. He was staring at the ground under his paws, ears flicking nervously as he avoided looking any cat in the eye. As they drew closer, she sensed her father freeze up and stop walking, and she turned to give him a meaningful look. His eyes flicked between her and Brambleclaw, but then he closed them, sighed, and then obediently kept walking.

“Brambleclaw.” Squirrelpaw greeted him as they drew up in front of him. He raised his head to meet her.

“Hey, Squirrelpaw-” The words died in his mouth as he saw Fireheart standing behind her, and his gaze lowered again.

“Fire- Fireheart.” He managed, awkwardly.

Squirrelpaw eyed first Brambleclaw – still hunching over and doing his best impression of a scolded apprentice – and then Fireheart – who was staring at Brambleclaw with an emotional spectrum spanning all variations of mistrust, anger, and uncertainty – and held herself back from sighing. This was not going to be easy.

“I think the two of you didn’t really get off on the right paw.” She meowed, taking a page out of their books and heavily considering their words (instead of just saying what was on her mind, which was something more akin to “make friends already, you mouse-brains”). “But, Fireheart, Brambleclaw’s not his father. I wouldn’t be friends with him if he was. And Brambleclaw…” She hesitated, knowing all too well where Brambleclaw’s upset was stemming from. What was she supposed to say? He _did_ look like his father, and they both knew it. She couldn’t say that Fireheart’s mistake was unjustified. Perhaps… “…those were my father’s protective instincts talking as much as anything else; I think he thought I was in genuine danger.” She eyed both cats again. Fireheart at least looked pensive, but Brambleclaw only looked _more_ pained. She held herself back from yowling in frustration – what had she said wrong?

“I’m… sorry.” Murmured Fireheart, unexpectedly. “For the mistake, I mean.” There was no openness in her father’s posture, and none of the friendly twinkle in his eyes that she was so familiar with, but she supposed that it was a start. “For mistaking you for your father.”

“No cat deserves that.” Came Brambleclaw’s quiet response, seemingly directed as much at himself as it was at anyone else. Fireheart blinked in surprise, but before the conversation progressed any further, the father in question took it upon himself to appear and ruin everything (like normal, apparently).

“Fireheart.” Boomed Tigerclaw. “You begin training with Cinderpaw tomorrow. You have a responsibility as a mentor now; you’re going to need your sleep.”

“Yes, Tigerclaw.” Meowed Fireheart, who turned on his heel and began to head back to the warriors’ den without so much as a goodbye. Squirrelpaw moved to say something, but Tigerclaw’s attention had already turned to Brambleclaw.

“And you,” he meowed, “need to focus on resting in order to give your wounds time to heal. If you’re going to stay with us, you’re going to need to perform your duties as a warrior.” He hesitated for a moment, before adding: “If you really are my son, you’d understand the necessity for a swift recovery.” He then, finally, turned his attention to Squirrelpaw. “And you…”

“And I need to go to my den, like a good little apprentice?” Snapped Squirrelpaw, irritated that this badger of a cat had wandered into the conversation while she’d been trying to help Brambleclaw and her father better understand each other (or, at least, move them away from any potential animosity).

Tigerclaw stared at her coldly.

“Yes.” He eventually meowed, before briskly stalking away to creep out some other cat.

Squirrelpaw stared after him, rage burning within her. Turning around, she saw Brambleclaw, and she hated herself to taking a moment to blink and discern that it was actually him instead of Tigerclaw.

He must have seen something in her expression, because he stepped forward.

“Squirrelpaw…” He began, but Squirrelpaw shook her head.

“Save it.” She sighed. “It can wait until morning.”

With that said, she made her way to her den – a picture of defeat.

-

At first, Sandpaw did her best to not react when Squirrelpaw entered the apprentices’ den. For all the differences, such as the smaller frame and the bushier tale, Squirrelpaw still very much resembled her apparent father, Fireheart – and the thought of the ginger-furred warrior was enough to send Sandpaw into a tumultuous emotional state. She felt as though part of her was still by the gorge, staring down into the depths and realising how nearly it had been her. And there was a part of her – still small, but ever-growing – that was becoming enveloped in shame at the thought of him.

Fireheart’s saving her life had been, in some ways, the perfect opportunity for Sandpaw to step back and examine herself as a warrior. And she hadn’t liked all that she’d seen; for all she prided herself in her skills as a hunter and her prowess in combat, she’d neglected the honour and compassion that Whitestorm had always preached at her. And hadn’t it just made sense to not worry about that, in the past? Since the death of her father, Redtail, in a battle over Sunningrocks, honour had had little place in Sandpaw’s world. The RiverClan deputy, Oakheart, had had no honour when he’d killed her father, despite his important position in the clan. And in upholding ThunderClan’s “honour”, Tigerclaw had just spilled more blood, killing Oakheart for no reason other than revenge. Honour, to her, had never fit with the lives that they led.

And yet- though initially she’d been pleased at the thought that her father’s killer had too been killed, she’d grown less comfortable at the idea over time, as she’d grown older and the deaths had mounted. And the sight of Leopardfur howling Whiteclaw’s at the edge of the gorge had driven home for her the fact that every cat, whether ThunderClan or not, was in some ways a grievous loss. Whilst the perspective had been a long time coming, it was only after today that she could say that no matter what she thought of honour, she could no longer claim to be comfortable with the rampant and indiscriminate death that a lack of it brought about.

Compassion had never made much sense to her, either. She supposed that compassion for one’s clanmates was a given, seeing as how close-knit clans such as hers were stronger and more able to work efficiently with one another – but compassion as a general philosophy had never made sense to her. What was the point in showing compassion to an enemy, when all they wanted was to slit your throat and leave you for crowfood? What was the point in showing compassion to prey, when you were going to kill and devour them anyway?

And yet, it was those two things – compassion and honour – that had saved her life that day. Though she had never treated Fireheart well, and would likely have not done the same for him, he had saved her without hesitation. Despite his kittypet nature, which was supposed to stop him from ever understanding the clans and their way of life, he had played the part of a true clanborn warrior. She supposed that Whitestorm would have nothing but praise for him, if she were to relay the incident to her mentor. The thought repulsed her, and then made her feel guilty for feeling repulsed.

She had never treated him well.

And he had still saved her.

For all her criticisms of him and his heritage, for all her disdain at his stubbornness and his continuing to be a part of her life, he had… outshone her. Been more of a warrior then her. Because she knew, she knew that if the roles were reversed, she would likely not have saved him in the same way. Not seen it worth her time.

And the thought haunted her.

So, when Squirrelpaw entered, Sandpaw flattened her ears to her head and did her best to keep quiet in her nest, trying to avoid any interaction with the time-travelling apprentice. But when she heard her sigh so heavily, sound so defeated? Some guilty conscience, or debt owed to her father, or some other unidentified instinct forced her to slowly raise herself to her paws and pad over to Squirrelpaw’s side. When that didn’t elicit a reaction, she hesitated for a moment before settling down next to her companion.

“Hey, Squirrelpaw.” She meowed uncertainly. “You okay?”

“…Fed up.” Squirrelpaw muttered, after a moment’s awkward silence. Sandpaw tilted her head forward, but Squirrelpaw didn’t say anything else. Instead, she buried her face in her nest as though she was trying to hide herself.

“Alright, well, that’s helpful.” Sandpaw remarked before she could stop herself. When Squirrelpaw didn’t react, she nudged her with a paw. “Hey. Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or not?”

Squirrelpaw’s voice was muffled by the moss of her nest as she responded: “Why do you care?”

The question had Sandpaw taken aback, and she let her mouth dumbly hang open as she tried to formulate a response. Squirrelpaw slowly raised her head to peer curiously at her. Sandpaw eventually shook her head and answered:

““care” is too strong a word.” She meowed. “But I’m- well, I mean-”

“You don’t like me, and you _hate_ my father.” Squirrelpaw interjected, voice growing stronger. “I- just stop pretending to care!”

“I’m not pretending!” Spat Sandpaw, unwilling to take the accusation.

“Well, you haven’t convinced me!” Squirrelpaw retorted, standing up. The two were almost nose-to-nose now. “What’s changed? You can’t smell any more kittypet stench on me?”

The re-use of her own insult made Sandpaw flinch, and she gritted her teeth.

“He saved my life, that’s what changed!” She almost howled, glaring at Squirrelpaw. The other apprentice opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, the entrance to the den rustled and Dustpaw stuck his head awkwardly through.

“Hey, Sandpaw-” Dustpaw began, only to be cut off as Sandpaw and Squirrelpaw both turned to face him.

“Not now, Dustpaw!” They hissed in unison, before glancing at one another in surprise. Dustpaw blinked at them.

“Um… okay.” With that said, he backed out of the den, and left the two of them to their argument. Taking a deep breath, Sandpaw turned back to Squirrelpaw.

“As I was saying,” she meowed impatiently, “Fireheart saved my life today. It… well, I guess it inspired me to rethink some things.” She paused when she saw that Squirrelpaw was staring at her, and began to second-guess herself immediately. Did she sound shallow? Did she…?

Squirrelpaw was laughing.

Well, not laughing in the truest sense of the word, but there was a definite excitement and humour to her all of a sudden, as she continued to stare at Sandpaw with a beaming expression and widening eyes. A purr rose up from her throat.

“Oh, oh, I know what this is!” She suddenly meowed. Sandpaw jumped a little. “Oh, I know what’s happening!” That said, she turned and suddenly began to pace the den, leaving Sandpaw in a state of confusion. “Finally, something good happens…”

“What’s _happening_?” Sandpaw asked, tentativeness creeping in. “…Squirrelpaw?”

Squirrelpaw blinked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh! Sorry, sorry. I just got carried away. It’s just…” She cleared her throat, humming and not saying coherent words for several moments before continuing. “I remember that, uh, my dad said you never liked him until he saved your life, and then you warmed up to him. So, I guess I’m just… happy that’s happening.”

The explanation was a strange one, and definitely a stark reminder to Sandpaw that the cat in front of her was not from her own point in time – but it _did_ make sense. It was definitely odd to be told about the conclusion she was going to come to before she’d come to it herself, but it made sense; she couldn’t see herself keeping up her hostility towards Fireheart from this point onwards. At the very least, it would explain why Squirrelpaw hadn’t been wary of, or cold towards, her when they’d first met.

“Yes, well. I suppose it is.” Sandpaw mowed. Squirrelpaw purred, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

“I needed to hear that.” She confessed. “Not that specifically, obviously, but something _like_ that.”

The remark led Sandpaw to a realisation.

“You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.” She reminded Squirrelpaw, whose glee faded upon hearing Sandpaw’s words.

“No… I guess I haven’t.” She admitted, suddenly getting very quiet. Intrigued in spite of herself, Sandpaw stepped forward, and Squirrelpaw sat back down.

“Well, my problem is that Brambleclaw and Fireheart didn’t make a good first impression on each other, and I think they’re now both not willing to really try and make friends with one another.” She pawed at the ground. “Add that to the fact that me and Tigerclaw don’t get along, and that I didn’t- I can’t-” She glanced up at Sandpaw, and then back down at her nest. “Don’t know if I can really speak to my mother about it.” She mumbled, before raising her voice to finish her thoughts. “Combine all those things together, and I guess I’m just feeling very stressed right about now.”

“Why can’t you speak to your mother?” Sandpaw asked; it was that revelation that had stuck out to her the most, and made her think. Who _was_ her mother, anyway? Brambleclaw’s parents were Tigerclaw and Goldenflower – they were established mates, even if they’d been quiet about it. But Fireheart didn’t _have_ a mate, or any she-cat that she could identify as being particularly close to him. She supposed it wasn’t out of the question that he could meet some cat later, but then…

Sandpaw gasped before Squirrelpaw could answer. “Is your mother from another clan?” She asked. “Or from outside the clans?”

Squirrelpaw looked at her like she’d just suggested that mice could fly. “Of course not!” She sounded almost insulted at the insinuation, and Sandpaw hastily clamped her mouth shut. Squirrelpaw’s energy faded. “It’s just…”

Though she was still curious, Sandpaw forced herself to remain silent. To allow Squirrelpaw time to speak, and say what she would in her own time. But it was difficult to restrain herself.

Squirrelpaw, however, seemed to think on her words and then make the decision to not say them – instead, she looked at Sandpaw with a curious expression on her face. “Never mind.” She meowed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I would!” Protested Sandpaw, but Squirrelpaw remained stubborn.

“You wouldn’t.” She re-emphasised. “Or, at least, you wouldn’t like it.”

Was she trying to say that Sandpaw was too narrow-minded to understand? Sandpaw was about to protest, but then stopped herself; maybe… maybe Squirrelpaw had a point. If she had only decided to revaluate her views on Squirrelpaw’s father that morning, and even then only because he’d saved her life, then maybe she really wouldn’t understand or appreciate whatever it was Squirrelpaw was to reluctant to reveal about her mother. The realisation gnawed at her, adding to her already impressively-sized guilty conscience, but she didn’t speak of it.

“…Fine.” She grumbled. Squirrelpaw blinked at her, in clear surprise. She rolled her eyes. “I said, _fine_. I won’t pry.”

Instead of replying with words, Squirrelpaw purred again (even as she was donning what looked to be a smug expression), and then proceeded to unceremoniously slump back down in her nest.

“Thanks, Sandpaw.” She murmured, voice quietening down.

“Whatever.” Sandpaw responded. On the brink of settling down herself, she suddenly realised something. That hadn’t been Squirrelpaw’s only problem she’d listed. “Wait, what was that about Brambleclaw and Fireheart? They don’t get along?”

Squirrelpaw shook her head. “Fireheart saw Brambleclaw and mistook him from Tigerclaw, and it all went wrong from there.”

Sandpaw hesitated as she considered the situation. “Well, what’s so bad about being mistaken for Tigerclaw? Fireheart couldn’t have known Brambleclaw was here, he’d just come back from his mission.”

Squirrelpaw’s gaze darkened. “Brambleclaw… he has, I think, a complicated relationship with his father.” She admitted.

Sandpaw was a little surprised, but she supposed it made sense. Tigerclaw was an admirable warrior, but his brusque personality meant that he’d never been the most popular cat in ThunderClan. She could see how it may cause friction with his son. “Is it bad?” She ventured.

Squirrelpaw nodded. “Pretty bad.” She confirmed.

“Right.” Acknowledged Sandpaw. “So, Fireheart mistook Brambleclaw for Tigerclaw…”

“He got protective.” Squirrelpaw elaborated. “I think he thought I was in trouble.”

“Why would you be in trouble?” Sandpaw asked. Squirrelpaw’s gaze flicked from one side to another, as if discerning that no other cat was in the den with them, before turning her attention back to Sandpaw.

“Look, I honestly can’t remember the details.” She admitted. “I didn’t live through this time, after all. But my father doesn’t trust Tigerclaw. Not at all. And he… he has good reason.”

A chill made its way up Sandpaw’s spine. What was she saying? What could have caused that mistrust?

“Squirrelpaw?” She asked. But before she could say anything else, bodies burst into the apprentice’s den. Sandpaw jumped, even as she realised that the newcomers were actually the two new apprentices – Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw. Laughing, the two young cats, only just out of the nursery, wrestled excitedly with one another and began to explore their new den.

Sandpaw hurriedly made eye contact with Squirrelpaw, and the expression on the time-traveller’s face was clear – their conversation was not over.

“Hey!” The sprightlier of the two new apprentices, Cinderpaw, jumped up into Sandpaw’s field of vision from seemingly out of nowhere. “You’re Sandpaw!”

“I know.” Sandpaw grunted, not sure what else to say. Cinderpaw dropped back down onto all fours and began to pace where she stood, seemingly full of energy.

“What’s being an apprentice like?” She asked.

Sandpaw thought back on her own frustrations at not being given a warrior name; on her successes and her failures.

“It can be a challenge.” She tried to phrase her response diplomatically. “But it’s in service to the clan. And every cat does it, anyway.”

“I can’t wait to start!” Cinderpaw sounded like she was barely listening to Sandpaw. “My mentor’s Fireheart! What’s he like? Are you friends?”

Sandpaw opened her mouth and then shut it again. Caught flat-footed by what now felt like a barrage of questions, she was frankly unsure what to say.

Thankfully, Squirrelpaw cleared her throat from the other side of the den, where she was guiding Brackenpaw over to a nest.

“I can answer that.” She said, sounding very smug. Cinderpaw gasped.

“The time-travel cat!” She exclaimed, before bounding over to Squirrelpaw. Over the apprentices’ heads, Squirrelpaw gave Sandpaw a wink. The message was clear: _I have this handled_. On the one hand, Sandpaw envied Squirrelpaw’s ability to humour the hyperactive apprentices, but on the other hand, she just wanted to sleep the day away so that she could approach everything with a rested perspective once she woke up.

As Sandpaw lay back down in her _own_ nest, and began to think back on said day, she realised that there was one thing she could safely say about talking to cats from the future: it was always going to feel like they knew something more than you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this chapter, my background music was mostly either Irish folk (dancing) music, or "Pompeii" by Bastille. I don't think it shows but let me know if it does because I'm honestly curious as to HOW that'd even show in text


	18. The one where Squirrelpaw and Fireheart are both kinda hoping a conversation happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it feels like this chapter stops kinda abruptly, that's because I realised that all the content I wanted to fit in it could really be split up (that, and I wanted to not go too long without an update xDD). Fear not, the next chapter will pick up exactly where this one leaves off :3

**18**

When Fireheart went to awaken Cinderpaw the next morning, his movements were slow and his mind was clouded. Between Tigerclaw’s son arriving in the future, the revelation that he would apparently lead ThunderClan one day, and Greystripe’s sudden descent into melancholy (along with his insistence that they travel alone that day, instead of taking their apprentices out together as Fireheart had hoped) all compounded on him. The stress of being a new mentor, too, didn’t help, and he couldn’t help but wonder how he was supposed to be a good mentor for his clan with all of these other things happening around him. He knew that a cat like Tigerclaw would tell him that every mentor had to learn how to balance their responsibilities as a teacher with the other goings-on in their life, but somehow, he didn’t think that many other cats had the same sorts of stress on them that he had now.

Tigerclaw’s son worried him; though he hadn’t been able to convince any cat that he was right yet (even Greystripe had had his doubts), there was no doubt in his mind as to Tigerclaw’s true malevolent nature, and he was worried that this was a nature shared by his son. The only argument against this was that Squirrelpaw seemed to trust him, but in some ways, that just made him worry more. After all, everyone else in ThunderClan, including wise warriors such as Bluestar, trusted Tigerclaw – and his daughter was still an apprentice, albeit an experienced one. Even if they _had_ journeyed together, this cat may have just hidden his true personality from her the whole time, the same way that Tigerclaw hid his. Fireheart didn’t necessarily _want_ it to be the case, but he worried that it was a strong possibility.

And yet- if he _was_ ThunderClan’s future leader, didn’t that mean that Tigerclaw’s scheme had failed? Surely, it wouldn’t be part of his plan to make Fireheart leader. If he’d murdered Redtail in an attempt to become deputy (and the thought, even now, sent a chill through Fireheart), then why would he allow, or even purposefully ensure, Fireheart’s ascension to leadership? More importantly, what did that mean for the son? Brambleclaw? Did that mean that Fireheart was his leader? Why would he still be in the clan, unless Fireheart had allowed it? When he’d said “Firestar”, he’d sounded… scared. And certainly deferential. Was that genuine, or had it just been him disguising his true feelings?

Fireheart shook his head. He would talk to Squirrelpaw, he decided, to try and get some answers. There was no use worrying about it now, when he was doing his best to be a good mentor. He needed to give his apprentice his full attention.

Inside the apprentice’s den, Cinderpaw was asleep, a fluffy grey heap in her nest.

“Cinderpaw!” He called quietly into the den. At once, she lifted her head to stare at him. He stood back from the entrance of the den, and a moment later, she bounded out, wide awake and enthusiastic.

“What are we doing today?” She mewed, staring up at him eagerly. He opened his mouth to respond, but then another cat crawled out of the apprentice’s den – Squirrelpaw.

“Squirrelpaw!” Meowed Fireheart and Cinderpaw at the same time. Squirrelpaw yawned as she stretched herself out in the light morning sun.

“Good morning.” She meowed sleepily, before shaking herself and turning to Fireheart with suddenly-alert eyes. “Could I join you and Cinderpaw today?”

Fireheart wasn’t sure how to respond. On the one hand, he’d found himself missing his daughter while he’d been on the mission with WindClan – and a patrol might be the opportunity he’d been hoping for to ask her about Tigerclaw, Brambleclaw, and the future. On the other hand, he was supposed to be taking Cinderpaw around the territory; would he be able to focus his energies into mentoring if he was also having a conversation with some other cat?

“Can she come? Can she please come?” Asked Cinderpaw, eagerly. “I’ve never met a cat from the future before!”

“You’ve already met Squirrelpaw, though.” Pointed out Fireheart, bemused. Cinderpaw shook her head in response.

“I didn’t _meet_ meet her.” She mewed, before adding: “Please!”

“I mean, I chatted with you last night, but sure.” Squirrelpaw meowed. Fireheart saw her glance at Cinderpaw with unease, and his worried only compounded. What could _Cinderpaw_ have done to elicit such a reaction? The gesture convinced him; duties as a mentor aside, he obviously needed to decipher all of this cats-from-the-future business. It wasn’t going to do for him to just sit back and remain confused.

“That works for us.” Fireheart nodded. Paying little mind to Cinderpaw (who had begun to cheer), he fixed Squirrelpaw with what he hoped was a “stern mentor” expression. “Though, are you sure there aren’t any duties that any other cat will want you to see to?”

“Well, I can just break off early from the two of you if I have to.” Squirrelpaw responded. “Besides, my overseer is Tigerclaw, remember? Do you really want me to spend any more time with him then I have to?”

Fireheart _did_ remember. And she had a point – he wasn’t sure he trusted Tigerclaw around her. After learning of what had happened to Redtail, he doubted he ever would be.

“Come on, then.” He meowed, before turning to Cinderpaw. “Are you hungry?” He asked, wondering if he should tell her to eat first.

“No!” Cinderpaw shook her head, and Squirrelpaw mrrowed in amusement.

“You remind me of me.” She revealed to Cinderpaw. “When I was first apprenticed, I was so excited, I could have gone all day without eating!” She turned to look at Fireheart. “There’s something that’s just so brilliant about seeing the whole of the territory for the first time.”

Fireheart shrugged – he had never been _as_ excited to see the territory, so much as he’d just been curious. Maybe it was an aspect of being clanborn, he reasoned, wherein kits were raised on tales and stories of the forest and the territory. (It would certainly explain his different reaction, at any rate.) He couldn’t help but wonder what it meant that Squirrelpaw, who was his daughter, had felt the same way. It was a good sign, he supposed; a sign that she wouldn’t have, or hadn’t had, the same issues that he had with integrating himself into the clan. But at the same time, it made him aware of a disconnect between the two of them. Obviously, despite them being kin, there were still some differences between them.

Pushing his thoughts aside, he indicated with his tail and began to pad towards the gorse entrance – only to be overtaken, as Cinderpaw raced past him and through the gorse tunnel. Seeing this, Fireheart broke into a run. He opened his mouth to yowl something to Cinderpaw, but then Squirrelpaw too was darting by him. She grinned at him from the entrance.

“Try and keep up!” She meowed, before racing off into the forest after Cinderpaw. Huffing to himself, Fireheart followed the two apprentices as they scrambled up the side of the ravine. Squirrelpaw, older and more experienced, easily overtook Cinderpaw, and casually reclined at the top of the ravine, washing a forepaw as she watched the younger apprentice scramble up after her.

“Shouldn’t you be following me?” Fireheart called. Squirrelpaw’s tail twitched in amusement.

“Not if you’re not in the lead!” She called back down. Rolling his eyes playfully, Fireheart sprang up after them, climbing to the top quickly enough to haul Cinderpaw up over the final rocks by the scruff of her neck. He quickly turned his attention to her, to make sure she was holding up, but her enthusiasm remained undampened as she stared out over the snow-covered treetops.

“Look at the trees!” Her mew was breathless, but it still carried wonder. “They look like they’re made from moonstone…” She turned to Squirrelpaw. “Did the mountains look like this?”

Squirrelpaw shook her head. “No, the mountains were just rock and snow.” She explained. “I don’t think they were as beautiful as this.”

Cinderpaw beamed as she stared at the landscape for a moment longer. Fireheart took a deep breath of the cold air.

“You should save your energy.” He told Cinderpaw. “We have a long way to go today.”

“The territory’s larger than you think.” Squirrelpaw added. “Especially for a titchy apprentice like you.”

Fireheart eyed his daughter. “Look who’s talking.” He quipped, in reference to Squirrelpaw’s small frame and stature. She mock-gasped.

“You say that like I didn’t flatten you when I first arrived at camp!” She argued. Fireheart opened his mouth to respond, but then Cinderpaw interrupted.

“Which way now?” She kneaded the ground impatiently, and looked ready to dart away into the woods all by herself.

“Follow me.” Meowed Fireheart. “And this time, _follow_!” He led Cinderpaw and Squirrelpaw along the edge of the ravine, towards the sandy hollow. As they arrived, he noticed that Squirrelpaw had a nostalgic look on her face, and couldn’t help but wonder what it meant; though, he supposed that he could just add it to the ever-growing list of questions he had for her.

“This,” he explained to Cinderpaw, “is where we’ll hold our training sessions.” He pointed with his muzzle as he kept talking. “A stream flows beyond that rise there – it was once part of a river that ran through here many moons ago. But as you’ll see, it’s dry for most of the summer.” He let himself bask in a small moment of pride as he continued: “That’s where I caught my first prey.”

“How often will we train?” Cinderpaw asked, before shouting more questions without waiting for an answer to her initial one. “What did you catch? Is the stream frozen now? We should see if it’s frozen!” She darted into the hollow and began running towards the rise, ignoring Fireheart as he called after her:

“You’ll see it another time!”

Squirrelpaw rolled her eyes.

“She’s not going to listen. Come on, father.” With that said, she jumped into the hollow and streaked after Cinderpaw at an alarming rate. Blinking in surprise at his daughter’s speed, Fireheart hesitated for a moment before racing after the two of them. By the time he caught up, both of the apprentices were perched at the top of the rise, and were staring down at the stream. The water flowed sluggishly over the riverbed, and ice had coalesced at the edges, but the stream remained unfrozen.

“You wouldn’t catch much there now.” Observed Cinderpaw. “Except fish, maybe.”

Instead of responding to her, Fireheart turned to Squirrelpaw in surprise. “You’re fast.” He meowed.

Squirrelpaw shrugged. “I guess.” She responded. “I think it’s just because there’s less of me.” Cinderpaw looked confused at the explanation, so with a small laugh, Squirrelpaw bent down to address the younger apprentice. “I’m smaller, so I have less weight to carry around.” She explained. “At least, that’s my theory.”

“But that’s so cool!” Interjected Cinderpaw. “That means that if you’re being chased, you can escape for sure!”

Squirrelpaw’s eyes filled over with nostalgia. “Just as long as I don’t get stuck anywhere.” She admitted. Fireheart peered at her – it was a specific observation to make – but was willing to shrug it off. He had his priorities, and as long as his daughter was safe now, he could do without knowing about a time she got stuck in a place.

Cinderpaw leant down to peer into the black water.

“I’d leave the fishing to RiverClan, if I were you.” Fireheart told her. “If they want to get their fur wet, then let them, but I prefer dry paws.”

“Can you even fish?” Squirrelpaw asked, wryly.

“Can you?” He retorted – but to his surprise, she shrugged coolly.

“We learnt how on our journey.” She meowed. “I’m rusty at best, but maybe-” She padded towards the river, but Cinderpaw was already up and staring at Squirrelpaw in undisguised admiration.

“Purdy taught you!” She gasped. Fireheart, who had missed that part of the story, stared at his daughter questioningly.

“A loner we met in a twolegplace.” She explained. He nodded, sated. Cinderpaw, meanwhile, began to pad around in a circle, evidently already ready to do something else.

“What next?” She asked.

Her excitement was infectious – rather than let his daughter get a head start on him again, he bounded away, calling over his shoulder, “The Owl Tree!”

Squirrelpaw took off at breakneck speed, trying to catch up with him; Cinderpaw charged after them, her fluffy tail sticking up behind her. The cats quickly arrived at the fallen tree that Fireheart typically used to cross the stream, and once there, Fireheart slowed down to let Cinderpaw catch up. Squirrelpaw, meanwhile, trotted across the tree without a care in the world, and proceeded to pull faces at him from the other bank as he explained things to Cinderpaw.

“There are stepping-stones further down the stream.” He meowed, ignoring Squirrelpaw as she stuck her tongue out at him. “We use the tree sometimes because it’s a quicker route, but it gets slippery when it’s wet, or icy – like today! So be careful.”

Cinderpaw nodded, and Fireheart felt a wave of relief at the sign that his apprentice did, in fact, sometimes listen to what she was told.

Concern swept through him as Cinderpaw leapt up onto the tree, and he walked closely behind her to make sure that she didn’t fall (the stream was shallow, but the water would be bitingly cold); he breathed a sigh of relief mingled with pride as she made it to the other end without a problem.

“Well done.” He purred. Cinderpaw’s eyes were bright as she turned to face him.

“Thanks.” She replied. “Now where’s this Owl Tree?”

-

Brambleclaw’s release from the medicine den was, in his opinion, long overdue. Yellowfang had kept him in to ensure that his injuries wouldn’t cause him any further issues (specifically his leg, which had been badly bitten by the RiverClan warriors), but eventually, she’d run out of reasons to keep him in the den, and had released him that morning in the terse manner she’d always been known for.

“Alright, fine, you can go.” She’d meowed. “Just don’t get yourself hurt again; winter is coming, and I’m bound to have my paws full. The last thing I need is to spend my time treating a healthy young warrior just because he’s gotten himself an easily preventable injury.”

Unwilling to argue with her on the matter, he’d left the medicine den in a hurry. The truth was, he still couldn’t meet her eyes without feeling a wave of guilt. After all, Firestar had chosen to save him over her, during the fire that had destroyed the camp when he’d been a kit. And though he’d done his best to be a good warrior for his clan, and had ultimately been chosen by StarClan to help lead the clans to their new home, there had been times during his apprenticeship, and during his father’s rise to power, where he’d wondered if Firestar had truly made the right choice.

He was more self-assured than that nowadays, but still – the guilt ate away at him, and he was glad to be released from the confines of the medicine den.

Blinking in the sunlight, he looked around the camp. Cats were milling about, eating and talking as they began to go about the day’s duties. He looked for Squirrelpaw, but a growl from his stomach was enough to distract him, and so he instead wandered to the fresh-kill pile, pulling out a mouse for himself and looking around for a place to sit. Whitestorm, sitting at one end of the camp with some other warriors, beckoned him with a wave of his tail. He trotted over.

“Ah, Brambleclaw.” Whitestorm greeted. Brambleclaw couldn’t suppress the surge of pride he felt upon being addressed by the white warrior – in his time, Whitestorm had died before Brambleclaw had been made a warrior. To be respected as equals by him now felt slightly unreal.

“Whitestorm.” He managed to reply, dipping his head in deference – even with his travelling through time, Whitestorm was still very much his senior.

The older warrior’s features were relaxed as he kept talking. “I hope you didn’t have plans to eat with anyone else. I wouldn’t have wanted to impose.” He continued.

“It’s fine, really.” Brambleclaw assured him, settling down between Whitestorm and one of the other gathered warriors (who were staring at him openly). “I was looking for Squirrelpaw, but I can’t see her anywhere, so it’s not a problem.”

“I saw her leave earlier.” Said another cat. _Willowpelt_ , Brambleclaw realised after a moment. Younger than he could remember her, here she was, very much alive. “If I remember correctly, she was with Fireheart and Cinderpaw.”

“Is that allowed?” Asked another cat who, with an uncomfortable jolt, Brambleclaw recognised as Runningwind – who had been murdered in cold blood by Tigerclaw, mere moons after Brambleclaw himself had been born. “I always thought that the first day of an apprenticeship, the mentor and the apprentice bond by themselves.”

“To be fair to Fireheart, he is young, and lacks experience.” Whitestorm reasoned. “It would make sense that he wouldn’t feel confident to take his apprentice out all by himself to begin with, and it would make sense that he would seek solace in Squirrelpaw, who is currently the only kin he knows.”

“But she’s also an apprentice.” Pointed out Runningwind. “She’s not going to be any help.”

“It’s not always about help.” Whitestorm responded evenly. “Sometimes, the most important thing a cat can do is just be there.”

For his part, the most that Brambleclaw could do was stand and stare, completely taken in by the surreal experience he was having – watching idle conversation between three warriors who, in his time, were all dead.

Clearly, this “time-travel” business was still something he needed to wrap his head around.

“Brambleclaw?” Whitestorm asked, jolting him out of his confusion. “Was there anything specific you wanted to talk to Squirrelpaw about?”

There had been, as a matter of fact – he’d wanted to talk to her again about their plan for saving the lives that StarClan had told him to save. (He was still plagued by the worry that her message – that the future could not be change – was the one that held true, and that all his efforts were in vain, but at the same time, he knew that if he had any chance of stopping his father’s crimes from coming to pass, he owed it to every cat who had died because of him to try.) However, he couldn’t explain all of that to the cats in front of him.

“No, Whitestorm.” Brambleclaw answered. “I was just curious.”

Whitestorm nodded – but the question had opened up an avenue of thought for Brambleclaw. Of course, he would continue to talk to Squirrelpaw about their situation, and any potential course of action to take – but he didn’t _only_ have to talk to Squirrelpaw, did he? Perhaps he could get advice from one of the cats in this time, and use their experience to help him in his mission!

Of course, he reasoned, he probably wouldn’t be able to tell them the full truth of his goal to stop his father – as it stood now, his father’s reputation in ThunderClan remained intact, and as much as he wanted to simply reveal the truth to every cat, he didn’t have the proof to support any such claim. (Plus, at this point in time, Tigerclaw had yet to commit many of his heinous crimes, which meant that it would be even more difficult to convince the clan that action ought to be taken against him.) But he could easily enlist their help, either in the realm of advice, or in un-setting any traps set by his father. For instance, what were the most recent developments within the four clans? (Perhaps there was something that he and Squirrelpaw had missed.) Or, what if they knew Tigerclaw, and anything about what he was doing? Could they give him advice?

Beyond that, he was beginning to burn to tell someone; certainly, he could understand, from a certain perspective, why Squirrelpaw had quickly taken to parading herself around as Fireheart’s kin from the future. There was something constricting about knowing so much more then every other cat; and in his case, the guilt that wore on him whenever he looked at half of ThunderClan’s population was remaining persistent. Perhaps, if he could talk to some cat about it, even indirectly, it would make him feel better.

The only question was, which cat to go to?

The answer came to him quickly enough.

Nodding once again to Whitestorm and the other warriors, he turned on his heels and bounded across the camp.

-

Long after their patrol had begun, Squirrelpaw was still struggling to put aside the novelty that was Cinderpelt (well, Cinder _paw_ ) walking and running and jumping without a care in the world. More to the point, her time’s medicine cat was energetic, inquisitive, and seemed to throw herself into all the tasks Fireheart gave her with a borderline ludicrous energy that definitely reminded Squirrelpaw of herself at that age. It was clear that being a warrior meant everything to her, and it was a far cry from the Cinderpelt Squirrelpaw knew – a young medicine cat with a subdued temperament, who was wise beyond her years and whose tongue could be as sharp as Squirrelpaw’s own mother’s. She was still happy, but there was something… missing. Squirrelpaw hadn’t even realised until she’d seen the younger version; perhaps it was just the energy of being so young, or the novelty of spending her first day in the forest, but it was enough of a disconnect that Squirrelpaw would have hardly believed that the two versions were the same cat.

If Brambleclaw’s message took priority – if it turned out that the future _could_ be changed, and cats _could_ be saved – Squirrelpaw’s resolve was already set to ensure that Cinderpaw would, this time, be able to follow the path that she clearly wanted so much.

As they padded into Twolegplace, Squirrelpaw spared a glance towards her father. He was watching Cinderpaw with undisguised compassion and pride, and she winced as she realised that he must have been her mentor when she’d had her accident. How must that have felt for him, as a new mentor? With a jolt, she realised that for as long as she’d known him in her time, he’d never had an apprentice – and though that was most likely just the duties of a leader meaning that there was no time, she couldn’t help but wonder if part of it was because of his unwillingness to let another young cat get hurt under his watch ever again.

“Stay alert.” Fireheart cautioned Cinderpaw as the three cats crept beneath the thin pine trees that lay on the border of Twolegplace. “Twolegs sometimes walk here with their dogs.”

Crouching under the threes, the three cats eyed the fence that separated the ThunderClan territory from twoleg place. Squirrelpaw eyed it – though she hadn’t visited it in moons, she couldn’t help but feel as though this area specifically was familiar. Even as she turned to her father to talk to him, she kept the feeling in mind.

“Father,” she meowed, “I actually wanted to talk to you, if that’s alright.”

Fireheart turned to her in surprise, but then his expression changed to a more pensive one.

“It’s alright.” He confirmed. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about something too-”

“Look!” Cinderpaw pointed excitedly with her muzzle, interrupting both of the older cats. A little way away from their patrol, a heavily pregnant she-cat was padding across the forest floor. Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but think that she was familiar, but there was one thing that was obvious about her-

“Kittypet!” Sneered Cinderpaw. Her fur fluffed out, and she began to drop into a crouch as her focus shifted fully to the intruder on their territory. “Let’s chase her out!”

Under normal circumstances, Squirrelpaw would have had little problem with chasing away a straying kittypet – however, the familiarity she felt at the sight of this particular cat made her reluctant to do anything. She glanced over at her father, in a vain attempt to decipher the feeling, to find that he, too, was staring at the kittypet with a semblance of recognition. A heartbeat passed – and then the memory finally hit her.

“Aunt Princess!” She gasped.

Fireheart’s eyes widened. “Princess.” He echoed, and then turned to face her. “Your aunt-?”

“Your sister, yes.” Squirrelpaw breathed, still basking in the newly-retrieved memory. “I- you took us to visit her, once or twice while we were young apprentices.”

“To visit…” Fireheart breathed. Then, before she could stop him, he had slipped out from the undergrowth and revealed himself to the kittypet. “Princess!” He meowed.

Princess, startled, stepped backwards, eyes darting left and right as if trying to fight an escape route. It made sense really, Squirrelpaw mused – even now, her father looked like a forest cat, lean and wild, and a stark contrast to Princess’ more pampered appearance.

Cinderpaw, meanwhile, blinked in surprise. “We’re not going to drive her away?” She asked.

Squirrelpaw shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She explained. “That’s Fireheart’s sister – I think he’d rather say hello.”

Cinderpaw frowned. “But aren’t we supposed to drive away cats who aren’t part of our clan from our territory?” She asked. “Isn’t that part of being a warrior?”

The question left Squirrelpaw stunned, and silently scrambling for an answer. What could she say? Her father was supposed to be the responsible mentor, how would he word it? She looked helplessly at Fireheart, who was still busy trying to convince his now-hissing sister that he wasn’t going to attack – “Princess, it’s me! Rusty!” – before concluding that no, she was going to have to handle this herself.

“Well…” she licked her muzzle as she thought. “It’s not that simple.” She eventually meowed, stalling for time. Cinderpaw tilted her head, curious.

“Why not?” She asked.

“Because…” Squirrelpaw hesitated. “Because it’s not that simple.” She eventually declared. “Because when you’re a warrior, not everyone you meet who isn’t part of your clan is an enemy.” Her first thought was of Midnight, the badger who had turned out to be perfectly peaceful, and who had delivered the journeying cats their message. Then, she thought of Purdy – the kind (if incompetent) loner who had done his best to help them. And even most of the cats who’d been on the journey with her hadn’t been part of her clan, after all. “And not every member of your clan is going to end up being your friend.” She added, mind straying back to Tigerclaw.

Cinderpaw’s eyes were wide, and she was staring at Squirrelpaw intently. Now feeling a little more comfortable with the scrutiny, Squirrelpaw pointed with her muzzle to Fireheart. By now, Princess’ hackles had lowered, and the two cats were talking openly with one another. “In Fireheart’s case, he saw a pregnant female kittypet, and deduced that it was unlikely that she was a threat to him.”

“But she’s his sister!” Pointed out Cinderpaw.

“And you’d attack Brackenpaw if you found him wandering out in the forest?” Shot back Squirrelpaw. Cinderpaw shook her head, and Squirrelpaw gave the younger apprentice a satisfied nod.

“Sometimes, the bond between kin is stronger than any ties we may have to the clan.” She thought of Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, fiercely loyal to one another despite being in separate clans. She even thought of Leafpool – though they were in a same clan, Squirrelpaw didn’t doubt that she would do anything for her sister. “Of course, you still have to be, I suppose, on your guard to make sure that everything’s alright, but you can’t blame a cat for wanting to spend time with someone from their family.” She paused, considering something. “Especially seeing as Fireheart doesn’t really have any family in the clans yet…”

It was something she’d only just realised, and yet, in hindsight, it seemed so obvious. She hadn’t seen Cloudtail anywhere – he might not even be _born_ yet – Sandpaw wasn’t his mate, and she and Leafpaw didn’t exist in this time. Her father had friends, such as Greystripe and Yellowfang, but in some ways, he was very much alone. Her heart went out to him. It was hard to reconcile; their family had always been close in her time, and seeing him without those connection was almost strange.

“He’s got you, though!” Cinderpaw argued. Squirrelpaw huffed.

“Not in this time, he doesn’t.” She meowed. “I mean, he _does_ , but technically, I’m not born yet.”

“But you are.” Cinderpaw squinted at her suspiciously. “You have been, because you’re here.”

“I guess that’s just how time-travel works.” Squirrelpaw shrugged. “It’s confusing.”

“It _is_.” Cinderpaw nodded emphatically.

At that moment, Fireheart slipped back into the bushes. There was a faraway look on his face.

“Fireheart!” Trilled Cinderpaw. He blinked at her, then smiled.

“Hey.” He greeted, before turning to Squirrelpaw. “You recognised her?”

Squirrelpaw shrugged. “I remember you took me and Leafpaw to meet her once or twice, while we were newly apprenticed. Before I left the forest.”

Fireheart nodded – there was clearly something on his mind. “Did I… visit her a lot? What did the clan think?”

“Umm…” Squirrelpaw hesitated. “Well, by the time I was born, I think the clan knew, but that’s a long way away from this time – off the top of my head, I can’t remember you telling us a specific time they found out.”

Fireheart nodded again. “So…” He prompted.

“So, probably best to keep it quiet for now.” Squirrelpaw meowed. “Just in case.”

“Right.” Fireheart nodded. “Just in case.” He turned to Cinderpaw, and crouched down so that he was at eye level with her. “I’m probably not setting a good example as a mentor, but… our little secret?”

Cinderpaw’s eyes were bright, and she enthusiastically bumped her nose against Fireheart’s. “Don’t worry, Fireheart!” She mewed. “Your secret’s safe with me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brambleclaw: "Oh man, gotta find someone I can talk to about this time-travel stuff"  
> Squirrelpaw, mid-patrol: "My husband senses are tingling"  
> Fireheart: "What"  
> Squirrelpaw: "What"


	19. The one where Brambleclaw has a DMC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ Y'all: let me know about the whole "replying to every comment I get thing", because me personally I love interacting with my readers but also if it kinda wigs people out that I reply to EVERY COMMENT when actually they'd just rather be left alone to comment in peace, let me know (I promise I won't get offended xD). I'm new to the fanfic scene!! I have no idea if this is a done thing! :P

**19**

“Bluestar.”

The old leader of ThunderClan looked up as Brambleclaw entered her den. Though she didn’t say anything, he saw her eyes widen in recognition for a moment, before the emotion faded away to be replaced with something else, something ineffable. Understanding that she had mistaken him for Tigerclaw, he resisted the urge to flinch.

It wasn’t as though he’d necessarily expected anything different – especially if, in this time, Bluestar knew Tigerclaw well (as her loyal deputy), but Brambleclaw himself hadn’t been born yet. But even so, the mistaken identity hurt. Not only was it that he could never not associate himself with Tigerclaw’s crimes, but there were times when it made him feel lesser. When members of ThunderClan had treated him like nothing more than an extension of his father, writing him and Tawnypaw off like they were bound to turn out just as bad, it had robbed him of his agency; he’d felt as though he was just another, dormant part of Tigerclaw waiting to unleash itself and cause yet more misery. And though he’d worked on rejecting his father, and on integrating himself into ThunderClan, these feelings were ones he’d still struggled with despite his best efforts.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on his heritage. He had to speak with Bluestar.

“Brambleclaw.” Bluestar said, breaking the silence. Brambleclaw’s ear twitched in surprise; he hadn’t expected Bluestar to remember his name.

“I was wondering if I could speak with you.” He ventured. Bluestar looked at him coolly.

“What about?” She asked.

“About… the fact that I was sent back in time.” Brambleclaw explained. “And why I think that may be.”

“You believe you were sent back for a reason?” Bluestar sat up in her nest, obviously interested. Brambleclaw flicked his tail-tip left and right, nerves suddenly overtaking him. There was no reason for him to be nervous. This was _Bluestar_.

Or, was that why he was so afraid?

“Not sent back, no.” He hurried to clarify. “I was- I don’t know how much Squirrelpaw told you, but from what StarClan told me, it seemed to be some kind of…” he hesitated on the final word. “Accident.”

Bluestar looked down at the floor of her den, and then nodded.

“Yes,” she meowed, “Squirrelpaw said something similar.”

“Well, that may be true, but a StarClan cat came to me in a dream before I woke up in the past.” Brambleclaw paused. He could barely remember his dream from StarClan – he hadn’t recognised the cat who had been speaking to him, and his memory of the whole dream was metaphorically foggy. “He told me- he told me to “save them”.”

Bluestar leant forward. “Save who?” She prompted.

“That’s the thing.” Brambleclaw admitted. “What I’m about to tell you – it may be difficult to hear, and you may want to keep it to yourself, for now.”

He’d thought hard about whether to just tell Bluestar of Tigerclaw’s true nature. To warn her right away that her deputy would one day become one of the forest’s biggest threats, and that his lust for power had already led to blood being spilled. But though he’d always imagined spilling the secret immediately in a similar scenario, he found himself… holding back. Surely, it was important to explore all avenues first – to make sure that Tigerclaw would have no other options before revealing him, to ensure that he wouldn’t be able to run and make his escape, and build himself back up again. It was what had happened the first time, when Bluestar had exiled him and he’d returned the leader of ShadowClan.

Besides, though his memory of the time was murky, he remembered that Bluestar had taken the reveal of Tigerclaw’s treachery badly, and had become depressed after the revelation. Better to ensure that he had proof of his accusations, that he could explain everything fully once he’d been in the past longer and gained Bluestar’s trust, once he’d already cast doubt over Tigerclaw’s honour. Only once that was done, would he reveal the truth.

“In ThunderClan’s near future,” meowed Brambleclaw, “there’s tragedy. Preventable tragedy. And we get through it – but cats die.” He paused, shuffling on his paws as he faced down the clan leader of legend he was talking to. “Too many die. And I think, I think the StarClan cat who visited me was telling me to save their lives. That even if I was sent to the past by accident, it’s my duty now that I’m here to change it.”

To Bluestar’s credit, she didn’t immediately panic, or even demand more information. Though her gaze clouded over in sorrow and fear, she stood up to face Brambleclaw as if she were confronting the news head-on.

“What happens?” She asked, stoic as ever.

Brambleclaw faltered – again, the temptation was there to just tell her everything straight away, and he had to resist – before replying.

“A, uh, a lot.” He meowed. “But the first big problem… is Brokenstar.” The solution to deflect Bluestar’s attention to the former Shadowclan leader came to him as he said the words, but it made sense. Whilst Tigerclaw (Tiger _star_ ) had undoubtedly been a bigger threat, from what Brambleclaw had heard, Brokenstar had played no small role in some of Tigerclaw’s schemes. Besides, Bluestar was going to be much more inclined to see him as a threat, seeing as how he and his warrior had already cost ThunderClan lives, including their medicine cat, Spottedleaf.

“Brokenstar.” Bluestar echoed, in a low growl. A nervous chill ran through Brambleclaw, but Bluestar only sighed wearily. “I had hoped that driving him out of Shadowclan would be the last we’d have to see of him.” She admitted. “So, he returns?”

“I think so, yes.” Confirmed Brambleclaw. Having only been a kit when Brokenstar had died, he didn’t remember anything about the old leader himself, and struggled to remember what he’d learnt from Firestar and the other older members of ThunderClan in his time. “He… he still leads his warriors as a band of rogues, I believe.”

“And they attack ThunderClan?” Bluestar inferred. Brambleclaw nodded.

“They attack ThunderClan.” He confirmed. “I don’t know when it happens, but I know that it _does_ happen. Maybe not for a little while, but…” He trailed off, no more words to say. Bluestar nodded in understanding.

“Then I suppose we must be ready for that eventuality.” She meowed, before staring at Brambleclaw. “What else should I know?”

What else could he tell her? Still reluctant to say anything about his father just yet, he wracked his brains in search of other incidents that had befallen ThunderClan around this time.

“…There’s a fire.” He admitted. “When I was – or, _will be_ , a kit – the camp is destroyed by a fire, and cats die. RiverClan has to take us in until it is extinguished.”

“A fire?” Bluestar’s tone had changed. Now… she was definitely concerned. “A fire destroys us? Are you sure?”

“It doesn’t destroy the clan.” Brambleclaw hastened to correct. Blinking, he struggled to hold back the memories of that terrible night. The heat, the light, the fear and adrenaline that had led him to scramble up that stupid tree in the first place. The scent of smoke flooded his nostrils, and his legs quivered. Bluestar tilted her head at him.

“Brambleclaw?” She asked, lowly, but Brambleclaw was already shaking his head. He had to be strong, had to convince Bluestar that it would be okay.

“The clan survives.” He repeated, trying to be emphatic. “But… not every cat does. And we need every cat.”

Bluestar nodded at him, still frowning. “I’ll keep it in mind.” She offered. “When you say it happened when you were a kit…?”

“Yes.” Brambleclaw confirmed. “It was… I don’t think it was too long before I became an apprentice. But definitely before that.”

“I see.” Bluestar meowed. “So, we have time.”

“Yes.” Brambleclaw agreed. “We have time.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose.” Bluestar remarked, hint of wryness in her mew, as her eyes glazed over and she began to look around the den – the dark rock walls and the curtain of lichen. Was she trying to imagine what it would look like once it had been consumed by flames, burnt by fire? Was she picturing the lichen gone, and the walls blackened, and her own nest reduced to cinders?

Unsure what to do, Brambleclaw stood in silence and let his mentor’s mentor imagine for a little while.

“Anything else?” Bluestar eventually asked. This time, Brambleclaw had an answer prepared.

“There’s an… incident with RiverClan.” He meowed, uncertainly. Bluestar’s tail swished imperiously.

“Are you referring to Whiteclaw’s death?” She asked – and was it Brambleclaw’s imagination, or did he detect a hint of hope in her mew? As though she was hoping that it had already come to pass, and that there was nothing more to it?

“No.” He admitted. “It isn’t a violent incident so much as it is… a messy one.” He was trying to pick his words carefully by this point. Whilst the conflict with RiverClan around Greystripe and Silverstream’s relationship could be avoided, it was imperative that the relationship still at least happen up to a certain point – he didn’t want to risk a future without Feathertail and Stormfur. Without them, the prophecy would happen differently, and there was a chance that both the Clans and the Tribe of Rushing Water would be lost.

There was a distinct look in Bluestar’s eyes, as though she already knew what Brambleclaw was talking about. “Go on.” She encouraged him.

“A ThunderClan warrior and a RiverClan warrior have… they fall in love.” He admitted. Bluestar flinched, and at first, Brambleclaw didn’t understand – but then, the memory came to him, of Whitestorm describing the cats rescued from TigerClan as all being “half-ThunderClan”, and Mistyfoot, as well as Featherpaw and Stormpaw, standing at the base of the great rock. Next came the memory of Firestar making the announcement, telling the clan the truth about Bluestar, Oakheart, and their kits.

Of course! No wonder such an incident would make Bluestar uncomfortable – it must have sounded like a recitation of her own past.

“They have kits.” Brambleclaw forced himself to continue, nervously running his tongue over his muzzle. “The she-cat dies baring them, and the tom’s clan takes the kits in. But the other clan – they want the kits, and conflict almost breaks out until the tom and his kits both join the other clan. It…” He struggled to say what he wanted to say. “It works out in the end, but it’s still a messy situation, and all things considered, I don’t know if we could have afforded being on bad terms with RiverClan with everything else that happens.” His thoughts drifted to TigerClan. Could that alliance have been prevented, Stonefur’s death be avoided, if ThunderClan and RiverClan hadn’t been at such odds? It was a long shot, for sure, but every little helped. And…

If more cats knew about Greystripe and Silverstream, maybe this time, things would be different. What if Silverstream’s death had been preventable? What if Yellowfang, or another medicine cat with more experience, had been there to help Cinderpelt? Brambleclaw recognised that it was still a long shot – and not even part of his mission, necessarily – but if there was any chance he could change history, and ensure that his friends grew up with their mother…

Though the circumstances couldn’t have been more different, he knew what it was like to lose a parent.

“What course of action were you intending to take?” Bluestar prompted him. “Do you want to stop the relationship from happening?”

“What?” Brambleclaw gaped at her, before realising that there was still a lot that he hadn’t yet told her. “No, no, I- it- my friends. They’re their kits, they- they can’t _not_ be born.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Bluestar responded, coolly. “Why would you bring it up unless you had a solution to offer?”

“I…” Brambleclaw trailed off, trying to think of the right words to say. After staring at him for a moment, Bluestar’s gaze softened a little, and she took a step towards him.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” She asked, softly.

“About a lot of things.” He admitted, without preamble. “I want- I want my friends to be born, but I also want them to have both their parents. I want for there to have been less suffering, and less death. I want…” _I want to make it up to everyone_ , he ached to add, but he held himself back, huffing as he faced Bluestar. When he had initially planned to approach her, he hadn’t intended on saying so much – at least, not so much about his own personal state. But the temptation to defer to some other cat, and be told what to do instead of the other way around, was just too much. He was just so tired.

Though they’d tried to work together as a single unit, over the course of the journey that the prophecy cats had undertaken, he’d ultimately fallen into the role of leader. Once arriving back in the forest, even his own clan had begun to look to him not as another warrior, but as some form of leader. He would have been blind to not notice the stares that his clan had given him when the topic of replacing Greystripe as deputy had arisen – and though it had definitely felt good, and his ambitious side had been preening, he had also been acutely aware of how long he’d _already_ been in charge, and how he didn’t feel as though he was ready for such responsibility yet. And then, he and Squirrelpaw had been thrown back to the past, and of the two of them, it was Brambleclaw who was the adult, the mature one, the one who worried about everything. (The worrywart, as Squirrelpaw would call him.) And now, immature as it was, he just wanted someone else to take that responsibility from him, just for a little while.

No. _No._ What was he _doing_? This was immature – a way to shirk his duty, as a warrior and as a member of ThunderClan. Guilt welled up in his chest as he looked back at Bluestar. The last thing he wanted to do was inundate her with further responsibility and pressure. But the formidable she-cat’s brow was already furrowed in concentration as she spoke up once again:

“And you feel as though you don’t have any idea what to do? What about StarClan? Have they not spoken to you since you arrived?”

 _StarClan_ … to Brambleclaw, it felt as though they’d already spoken to him enough. He knew what he had to do, technically, and it hadn’t been that long since he’d arrived in the past. And yet… he still felt so lost.

_What kind of a warrior am I?_

“No.” He told her. “Not since I arrived, and I was given my mission to begin with.”

“Hmm.” Seemingly unaffected, Bluestar leaned back on her haunches and began to lick one of her front paws. Her blue eyes were clouded over, obviously deep in thought. Brambleclaw blinked at her – in all honestly, there was a part of him that was still very much unsure as to how exactly he ought to interact with her.

“Do you…” His meow was hesitant. “Do you have any idea as to what I should do?”

Abruptly, Bluestar lowered her paw and focused all of her attention back on Brambleclaw.

“Ideas? Yes.” She meowed in response. “My main one is this: you should go to the Moonstone, and try to share tongues with StarClan.”

“StarClan…?” Brambleclaw echoed. “Bluestar, I already have my message from them-”

“Brambleclaw.” Bluestar interrupted, eying him warily. “I don’t think I need to tell you how well I understand the weight of responsibility, as well as how easily it rests on a cats’ shoulders.” The hardness in her voice and the compassion in her gaze was almost contradictory. “I was also there when Squirrelpaw shared her story with the clan. I won’t presume to know everything you’ve been through, of course, but I’m confident in saying that I have an idea. And I think you’ve forgotten how young a warrior you still are.”

Brambleclaw didn’t say anything. How could he respond?

“As far as I can recall, the task that you currently face is greater than that which any other clan cat has faced.” She continued. “At least, in terms of potential impact. This responsibility you’ve taken ownership of, to use your unique opportunity to change fate itself…” Bluestar actually faltered for a moment, seemingly unsure what to say herself, before continuing. “I don’t want to say that it is too much. That’s a decision that only you can make. But if you come to me for help – a leader you’re probably only so familiar with – and you can’t even tell me everything about what you’re trying to do, I think it’s fair to say that you need to step back and re-evaluate things before throwing yourself headfirst into this task.”

Defeated, Brambleclaw lowered his head as he let Bluestar’s words crash over him like the waves at the sun-drown place. It was tempting, _so_ tempting, to give up, at least for the time being. Let himself rest before getting started on his goal, on his mission. But he couldn’t afford-

“You know,” Bluestar continued, “you’re a lot like your father.”

Brambleclaw flinched, waiting for some form of scathing criticism, but there was no disdain in Bluestar’s words as she continued.

“Sometimes to a fault, he can get his heart very set on his goals.” She explained. “And he, too, has determination and resilience that is rarely found in a cat.”

The praise made him feel conflicted. So, he and his father were both stubborn? Was that what she was saying?

“I think that, like him, you’ve become too wrapped up in the bigger picture.” Bluestar elaborated. “You need to take your time, Brambleclaw. Our world will not end if you spend some days regrouping, rethinking, and asking your warrior ancestors what to do.” She looked at him with something akin to _pity_. “You mustn’t neglect yourself for the sake of every other cat.”

“But why not?” Brambleclaw blurted out, suddenly and inexplicably emboldened, still stuck on the confusion he felt over being compared to his father in a positive way for the first time in as long as he could remember. “Why shouldn’t I? I’m just me! Isn’t that what we’re told as apprentices, that we should serve the clan? What- what kind of warriors are we, if we let our own weakness-  if we can’t do what we must?” He stopped to breathe in rasps, trying to ignore the intensity with which Bluestar was staring at him. “I understand that we’re not worth nothing,” he meowed in an attempt to appease her, “and that we shouldn’t destroy ourselves for the sake of everyone else. But it’s me or them!” He gestured urgently with a paw to the curtain of lichen, and the camp that lay outside. “If it’s a choice between my well-being, and the lives that I have to save, I- I can’t just stand by, Bluestar, I just can’t.”

Bluestar blinked, apparently speechless, as Brambleclaw recoiled from his own words and then bowed his head again. _Idiot!_ He scolded himself. _If someone’s trying to help you, don’t blow up at them!_

“Alright.” Bluestar nodded. Brambleclaw was surprised – was that her reaction? She sounded surprisingly nonchalant. “I understand your point of view; if you may, I’d like to present the problem to you from a new perspective.” Her voice suddenly hardened. “A _pragmatic_ perspective.”

Brambleclaw gulped.

“If you work yourself up and into a state over what StarClan has already told you, you will be in no position to help the cats that you apparently very much want to help.” She told him, in no uncertain terms. “If you exhaust yourself, labouring under the weight of responsibility that has been as much something that you’ve taken up yourself as it is something StarClan has bestowed you with…” She flashed him a calculating gaze. “I know that StarClan sent you a message, but I can also see how much this means to you for reasons beyond. Perhaps this is your mission, but a lot of the pressure is from your own expectations.”

The growl that Brambleclaw had to hold back surprised him. Did she think that he _wanted_ this responsibility and pressure? That he _wanted_ to have to fix the mess that his father had created?

Bluestar continued, none the wiser. “If you want my advice, it is this: take some time to centre yourself. You seem certain of your goal, but if you still don’t know how your going to go about saving those cats, there’s only so much you can do. Then, once you’ve done that, I can send you to the Moonstone, and you can talk to StarClan. Whilst our warrior ancestors rarely give us clear information, two words are few, even by their standards.” She paused for thought, before continuing. “And, your mission must have come from the StarClan of your own time. The StarClan of ours might be different – and thus, they might have more to say to you.”

Brambleclaw felt his ears prick up. He hadn’t thought of _that_ … but she wasn’t wrong. Maybe, he realised suddenly, if he approached StarClan again, they would be able to explain why he and Squirrelpaw had been given different messages! He lashed his tail in anticipation.

“But most importantly,” Bluestar continued firmly, “you cannot let yourself fall in your attempt to help the rest of the clan. How are you supposed to “save them”, as StarClan put it, unless you’re in the condition to do so?”

“I…” Brambleclaw realised that there was no way to argue against her. “…I don’t know.” Admitting it stung, but he knew in his heart that Bluestar was right. He’d been so caught up in the possibilities of the situation, and the urgency that came with it, that he’d barely even stopped to think. The memory of Squirrelpaw trying to get him to relax and enjoy himself returned, and he had to resist rolling his eyes. Once again, she’d been right the whole time.

He sighed. “I’m sorry Bluestar. I just thought- I mean, I wanted to…” He trailed off, now struggling to even form his words correctly. Another wave of shame flooded him.

Bluestar padded to his side, and brushed against him comfortingly.

“Brambleclaw.” She meowed in a soothing tone. “There is no shame in caring too much.”

Suddenly exhausted, Brambleclaw found himself lying down, and resting his head on his paws. Bluestar walked calmly back into his field of view.

“Don’t tell your father I said this, because he’d most likely disagree in a heartbeat, but I’ve always believed that our strength comes not from our skill in combat, or status and reputation with the other clans – but from our compassion. Our willingness to offer a helping paw to others, even if it comes at our own expense. To maintain harmony and balance not only among our own clan, but among all the clans.” She turned to look directly at him. “Though we cannot, of course, disregard our own well-being.” She added, sternly, before shaking her head. Then, as she looked back up, she smiled, warmth breaking through her previously frosty gaze.

“That being said, I… If ThunderClan’s next generation is comprised of warriors like you, then – at least in regards to the future of my clan – there is nothing I have to fear.” She meowed.

Soothed beyond words, Brambleclaw stared at the old leader of ThunderClan for a moment, before climbing back to his paws.

“Thank you, Bluestar.” He managed to meow shakily.

“There is nothing to thank me for.” She replied, calmly. “Self-sacrificing as you may be, it is the result of your own compassion and sense of duty that we’re having this conversation at all. Those are all fine qualities for a cat to have, and I’m proud of you.”

Brambleclaw silently nodded.

“Now,” she continued, “as I was saying. I recommend you visit the Moonstone, and talk to the StarClan of our time. Try to see if they can’t tell you anything else about your circumstances, or your mission.” She blinked, suddenly deep in thought. “Have you been told anything about when you might return to your own time?”

“I… no.” Brambleclaw realised with a chill. “No, I haven’t. Squirrelpaw didn’t mention it either.”

Bluestar’s expression clouded over. “Then I suggest you ask about that as well.” She advised him. “That could be valuable knowledge, if you want to plan out a course of action.”

Brambleclaw nodded again. “I will, Bluestar.” He assured her.

“It’s important for me to know as well.” She added. “I most likely ought to know how long you and Squirrelpaw will be staying with ThunderClan, after all.”

“That makes sense.” Brambleclaw agreed. “Is there… is there anything else you think I should do?”

“Not for now.” Bluestar told him. “Although, that is because I don’t yet know everything about the future.” She glanced at him pointedly. “I won’t pry for details, but there is only so much I can do with the knowledge I have.”

“I understand, Bluestar.”  Brambleclaw assured her. “I appreciate the help you’ve already given me. And I- maybe I’ll tell you later. Once I have proof.”

Bluestar tilted her head to the side. “You think I won’t believe you?”

“With respect, Bluestar, some of what the future has to hold is very… unexpected.” Brambleclaw admitted, after initially struggling to find a diplomatic way to phrase it. “That, and I _have_ just arrived in this time. I know better than to assume that you believe everything I’ll say at face value.”

Bluestar sighed. “That’s fair enough.” She admitted. “As much as I want to believe you – and just about do, thus far – I can understand that reasoning.” She rose to her full height, shaking herself down and making herself look a little more imperious as an indication that the conversation was coming to an end. “Still, I suppose that’ll have to be something else you have to do. Find your proof.”

“I can do that.” Brambleclaw meowed. “Yes, I can do that.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Bluestar told him warmly, before indicating with her head to the lichen entrance. “Will that be all, Brambleclaw?”

“Yes, Bluestar.” Brambleclaw stood up straighter himself. “Thank you. For everything.”

Bluestar nodded regally at him, before turning and sinking back down into her nest, waving her tail lazily at the entrance to the leader’s den. Brambleclaw, recognising a dismissal when he saw one, stepped out of the lichen and into the bright light of the camp’s central clearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brambleclaw: *overshares during conversations, is tired, has very little idea what he's doing, has secondhand guilt, is traumatized, should probably see some kind of cat therapist*
> 
> Squirrelpaw: "So yeah, Brambleclaw's like, the functional one out of the two of us. IDK how he does it-"


	20. The one where Brambleclaw gets into the swing of things and Fireheart personifies the [eyes] emoji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,so hERE'S THE THING-
> 
> First of all, turns out university is! A very time-consuming place to adapt to! At least, that's been my experience for the past few weeks. :P I'd hoped that a routine would help me write more frequently, but obviously whatever I've got now has had the exact opposite affect. 0_0 Ah well, lesson learnt, hopefully it doesn't take as long next time:
> 
> Next: my brain decided recently that it would fixate on, of all things, creating animatics. As such, I'm basically doing some weird sort of "animatictober" (eat your heart out inktober), which means that there's less time for writing overall. It's kind of annoying, but hey, I do not control the hyperfixation. xD
> 
> That being said, I still know where I'm going with the story, and this chapter is actually shorter then I intended it to be because the conversations in it ended up being longer then I thought they were gonna be - which means that I have a better starting point for next chapter, because I know EXACTLY what I was planning on having happen. So hopefully that all means that it'll be less than a month between this chapter and the next one!
> 
> (And, uh, yeah. Sorry it took so long to get this one out ;_:)

**20**

It was as they were walking back to the camp, after their encounter with Princess, that Fireheart turned to Squirrelpaw with a resoluteness to his expression that painfully reminded Squirrelpaw of his future self. Cinderpaw was a little way ahead, out of earshot – Fireheart had slowed his pace and let himself hang back, and only now did Squirrelpaw realise that he had probably done so deliberately.

“I mentioned that I wanted to talk with you.” He meowed. His voice was heavy.

“You did, yes.” Answered Squirrelpaw. “I mean, I said I wanted to talk to you about something as well…”

Fireheart’s expression was quizzical. “Do you want to go first, or should I?” He offered.

“Oh, no, you first.” Squirrelpaw ducked her head. Fireheart almost looked like he wished she’d volunteered to go first instead.

“Alright, well…” He stared at the ground instead of her, clearly thinking his words through. Squirrelpaw’s curiosity began to mount. What was it that could have her father so worked up-?

“When I first met Brambleclaw,” Fireheart meowed, “when I first encountered him. He- he called me _Firestar_.”

Squirrelpaw blinked.

Oh.

Right.

That _would_ stick with him, she reasoned.

“And I don’t know what he meant,” continued Fireheart, “whether it was a mistake or if he actually meant it, and I… what does it mean, Squirrelpaw? In the future, am… _am_ I Firestar?”

Squirrelpaw, for a moment, could only stare at her father helplessly. While where was a lot she had revealed about the future (her journeys with the cats of the prophecy in her time), or wanted to reveal (like the fact that Sandpaw was her mother), this – this wasn’t something she’d given any thought to, especially considering the fact that the future might actually be changed by her actions after all. What if she was distorting everything just by admitting it? But, she reasoned at the same time, he probably wouldn’t forget about it very quickly if she just brushed it off. And besides, this was her dad. She couldn’t _not_ tell him.

(Besides; this was Brambleclaw’s mistake. Not hers. This wasn’t actually her fault at all. So there.)

“Yes.” She admitted. “You became the leader of ThunderClan before I was even born.”

Green eyes wide, Fireheart blinked lethargically, before stopping dead in his tracks. For a moment, Squirrelpaw thought he was about to fall over, and wheeled back around to look at him, but after a light sway on his paws, Fireheart shook his head and looked back at her.

“Sorry.” He meowed. “It’s just- it’s a lot to take in.”

“Hey, I can only imagine.” She replied by way of condolence. “I mean, I have to, because it hasn’t happened to me. But still.”

“So…” Fireheart still looked like he was struggling to wrap his head around the concept. “What happened? How did I, _when_ did I- what about Bluestar? And isn’t Tigerclaw deputy now? There’s no way he’d choose me as his deputy! How, how old am I in your time?”

Squirrelpaw blinked at the deluge of questions directed at her – it felt as though she was talking to another, more anxious, version of herself all of a sudden – but before she could answer any of them, the undergrowth rustled and Cinderpaw’s fluffy grey head poked out of the bushes back at them.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “I thought we were trying to get back to camp!”

“Um- we are.” Fireheart assured his apprentice, who huffed in response.

“Too slow!” Was her verdict, before her head disappeared and the rustle of her pawsteps faded away. Fireheart bounded after her.

“Sorry!” He meowed breathlessly, turning back to Squirrelpaw. “But we should probably get back to camp first. Tigerclaw’s not going to be impressed if my apprentice comes back from our first day of patrol without me.”

“I don’t know why you’d want to impress him.” Squirrelpaw grumbled, but began to pick up the pace anyway. Her father had a point.

The trio eventually arrived back at ThunderClan camp, with a glazed expression still on Fireheart’s face and Cinderpaw full of complaints about how the pine needles from Tallpines had pricked her paws. Before Squirrelpaw was able to re-initiate her conversation with Fireheart, however, she found herself cornered by Yellowfang.

“And where were you?” The old medicine cat asked, dangerously. “I was under the impression that you were supposed to stick around and help me in the medicine den – or has Bluestar already decided to let you off?”

Used to scolding from older cats, Squirrelpaw didn’t give much of an external reaction beyond running a tongue over one of her aching paws.

“I wanted to help Fireheart with Cinderpaw.” She replied coolly. Yellowfang scoffed.

“You’re an apprentice.” She told her, in no uncertain terms. “Even if you had the experience you need to “help” a mentor, that’s not your job.”

“Who says so?” Squirrelpaw shot back, indignantly.

“Says me!” Yellowfang retorted immediately. “And that temporary mentor of yours. I don’t think he’d going to be very happy about this.”

Squirrelpaw ignored the shudder that ran through her at the thought of Tigerclaw finding out – ignored the uncomfortable fact that, whether it was just holdovers from her father’s stories or a feeling she’d picked up since arriving in the past, she was still scared of him. “You make it sound like he doesn’t know.” She ventured. Yellowfang’s response was to roll her eyes.

“That’s because he doesn’t.” She replied, as if it had been obvious. “He assumed you were with me; at one point, he came sniffing around my den looking for you, but I convinced him that you were both out of sight and very busy. And that was no easy feat, let me tell you!”

“You covered for me?” Squirrelpaw gasped in surprise. “Why?”

“Who knows?” Yellowfang asked with a shrug. Her eyes glimmered with mischief. “But I don’t suppose that matters. What’s important is the fact that you repay me at some point, I think.”

So _that_ was how it was. Squirrelpaw couldn’t say she was totally surprised – Yellowfang had definitely struck her as pretty wry, for an old healer. “What do you want me to do?” She asked. To her surprise, however, Yellowfang just snickered.

“Nothing for now.” She revealed. “I’ll decide later.”

“That doesn’t-” Squirrelpaw began, but then stopped. Brambleclaw was walking towards her with what looked to be a spring in his step. After all the time he’d spent moping and sleeping off his injuries, seeing him like that was almost scary.

“Squirrelpaw!” He greeted as he trotted over, before turning and unnecessarily dipping his head in respect. “Hello, Yellowfang.”

“Hi.” Yellowfang meowed back, deadpan.

A moment of silence; then Brambleclaw turned his attention back to Squirrelpaw.

“You look different.” She observed. “Less like you want to just roll over and sleep for the rest of your life.”

Instead of even shooting her an exasperated look, like he normally would, Brambleclaw continued to look overly excited. After another moment of silence, during which the three cats just stared at one another, Yellowfang snorted. Brambleclaw turned to her.

“Yellowfang, could I borrow Squirrelpaw for a moment?” He asked. The old medicine cat rolled her eyes.

“Very well. Whatever this is, it’s is too exciting for me.” She meowed with a sarcastic lilt to her gravelly tone. “I’ll be in the medicine den – working diligently.” She eyed Squirrelpaw meaningfully. “As I expect you to be tomorrow. I’m not going to cover for you again, understood?”

“Okay, Yellowfang.” Squirrelpaw didn’t doubt that the old cat meant what she said. “I’ll be there.”

With a final harrumph, Yellowfang turned around and made her way back to the medicine den, muttering to herself about young cats and their lack of diligence. Squirrelpaw thought she heard Yellowfang mention Fireheart, but couldn’t tell for sure, and she wasn’t fussed enough to ask.

“What is it?” She instead asked Brambleclaw, her curiosity piqued. The spark in his eyes intensified, and she suddenly realised that she recognised it from when he’d told her of his determination to leave the clans, and when he’d decided that their group ought to help the tribe fight Sharptooth, and she suddenly realised. He had a plan.

“What is it?” She asked again, feeling her own feelings of excitement begin to well up.

“I know what we can do.” He meowed hurriedly. “I mean- about the fact that StarClan gave us different messages.”

“Oh!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed. While their conflicting messages was definitely an issue, Brambleclaw’s focus had been so… well, so _focused_ on the idea of changing fate and saving the cats his father had killed, she had expected him to want to solve that problem first, rather than try to figure out how much everything mattered. But an idea was an idea, and so she then blurted out: “Let’s hear it!”

“StarClan gave us those messages. But we can’t decipher what they mean.” He meowed. “So, we should _ask them again_!” He announced his plan with a pride that Squirrelpaw never thought she’d hear from him.

She, herself, was busy reeling at the suggestion, unsure of what exactly he meant.

““ask them again”?” She echoed incredulously. “Brambleclaw, we’re not going to go talk to a group of forgetful elders. This is _StarClan_. They probably said everything they said deliberately, and somehow I doubt they’re in the habit of repeating themselves.”

Brambleclaw’s ear flicked in irritation, but otherwise he didn’t really react. At least, he didn’t say “ _ah, Squirrelpaw, you are correct as per usual, your genius knows no bounds and my idea is bad_ ” like she sort-of hoped he would. (Maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but something along those lines would have been nice.) Instead, like the smart-aleck he was, he instead revealed: “Ah, I’ve thought about that.”

“Have you now?” She remarked.

“Well, I- yes.” Replied Brambleclaw, losing his composure at the question. “I have, actually.”

“Then enlighten me, oh wise one.” Squirrelpaw goaded him, taking no small amount of glee from the way his eye twitched.

“Well,” he meowed a touch icily, “my theory is that the StarClan that visited us was the one from our time. Which means that if we speak to them in _this_ time, we’ll be speaking to different cats. Which means that they might have something more to say. At the very least, they won’t have spoken to us before.”

“So we won’t get smited for questioning their judgement.” Squirrelpaw filled in. Brambleclaw fixed her with a tired gaze – not time-travel-inspired tired, but classic “Squirrelpaw shut up” tired.

“First of all, it’s “smote”, not smited.” He deadpanned. “Second of all, wha- who- what made you even think that that’s what StarClan does? They watch over us from the stars, they don’t _smite_ cats!”

“But they totally could.” Pointed out Squirrelpaw, mostly for the sake of the argument and because it was funny (and comforting) to see Brambleclaw back to his old self as far as “being incredulous at whatever she had to say” went. That, and… well, StarClan probably _could_ smite cats as they saw fit, she thought. Though she hadn’t seen it happen, or even heard about it as far as she remembered, it made logical sense. They could give extra lives to clan leaders; who was to say that they couldn’t somehow take lives away?

Brambleclaw opened his mouth, then closed it again and silently harrumphed.

“Nope. Not doing this now.” He muttered, before raising his voice back to a normal volume. “But you get my point, yes? You see why I think it won’t be a waste of time?”

“Well…” Squirrelpaw hesitated – she still wasn’t sure how much it would benefit them, going to speak to their warrior ancestors again. For one thing, they were far back enough in the past that half the cats in ThunderClan would have been in the StarClan of her time. If she wanted to talk to dead cats, macabre as it was, she could technically just talk to them. For another; as she’d mentioned, they _had_ already spoken to StarClan. From what she’d gathered, being vague was part of how they operated, and she honestly doubted that if they sought out answers, that StarClan would give them to them upfront.

However, she had to admit that Brambleclaw’s logic was sound. If they talked to StarClan now, there was a good chance that they’d meet with a different, earlier-in-time set of warrior ancestors, who wouldn’t have met them before and who might have something new to say. Besides… she spared a glance over at Brambleclaw, who was now watching her keenly as he waited for her response. Though his posture was stiff, and his face even, he couldn’t hide from her the flash of anxiety in his eyes, and her heart went out to him. This was his attempt to take back control of his situation, and try to be the capable problem-solver that he apparently now felt he had to be.

She couldn’t take that away from him.

“Well, alright then.” She replied coolly. “I’ll trust your judgement, fearless leader.”

Brambleclaw beamed. “Thanks, Squirrelpaw.” He sighed. “I- you won’t regret this.”

She felt herself soften.

“I know I won’t.” She assured him, softly. Then, she cleared her throat and spoke again, this time more brisk.

“So. What’s the rest of the plan?”

She could still feel the relief emanating off Brambleclaw, but even as she watched, it was replaced by confidence.

“We’ll head to the Moonstone.” He revealed. “As soon as possible. We’re going to ask StarClan about their conflicting messages, and about whether or not we can actually change things while we’re here. Depending on their answer…” He trailed off, but the rest was clear. Either they’d be able to sit back and relax, or they’d be able to save the cats who had died originally. To Squirrelpaw, it sounded like a win-win.

“When do we leave?” She asked.

Brambleclaw shrugged his broad shoulders. “As soon as possible, hopefully.” He meowed. Looking around for a moment, and apparently assuring himself that nobody was paying attention to them, he leant forward and meowed in a quieter tone: “I think the next significant thing that happens is Cinderpelt’s accident, but I don’t think it happens for a little while. The sooner we get to the Moonstone, the less we run the risk that we’ll come back to find that the accident’s happened anyway.”

“Right.” Squirrelpaw nodded. That made sense. “That makes sense.”

“Glad you feel that way.” Remarked Brambleclaw. “The last thing I need right now is you telling me how bad my ideas are.”

Pushing away a small amount of guilt, she snorted at him. “Believe me, if I thought your ideas were bad, you’d know.”

“Oh, I know I’d know.” He replied coolly.

Squirrelpaw had to resist the urge to say “I know you know you’d know”; she didn’t want to confuse him, after all. She settled for bumping her head against his shoulder affectionately.

“Yeah.” She murmured, instead.

-

 _Firestar_.

The name, and its connotations, had been on Fireheart’s mind all day, but since Squirrelpaw had confirmed his suspicions on the way back to camp, it had become all that he could think about.

It still didn’t make any sense. There was no way Tigerclaw would choose him to be deputy, first and foremost – either he’d elect one of his staunch supporters, like Darkstripe or Longtail, or he’d choose another senior warrior like Whitestorm. Perhaps Whitestorm…? Fireheart pondered. Whitestorm had always been fairly neutral as far as allegiance went, offering counsel and friendship to all. Perhaps Whitestorm had become Whitestar, and then Fireheart himself had been chosen as deputy? It seemed unlikely, though – Whitestorm wasn’t a young cat, and was almost definitely older than Tigerclaw. Beyond that, Fireheart was a brand-new warrior, and even if he gained more experience in the future… how had he become deputy? Had he proven himself in some way, perhaps? Had something happened that meant that he’d been the only right choice?

Shaking his head, he stepped away from where he’d seen Cinderpaw off (it hadn’t been quick – his apprentice had still been eager to talk with him, and he’d spent a long time only half-listening to her while scouring the camp for any sign of her mother, Frostfur) and swung his head around as he looked for Squirrelpaw. After a moment, he saw her – she was talking with the new arrival, Brambleclaw, and the sight made his heart sink a little. Perhaps he was being unfair to this cat, but his instincts kept telling him that something was off, that something was _wrong_ about him. Then again; he did resemble his father a great deal. Perhaps it was just the looming presence of Tigerclaw that had him on edge.

Still, as he watched Squirrelpaw butt her head against Brambleclaw’s shoulder, and see Brambleclaw’s chest puff out in response, he couldn’t help a wave of concern.

“You look like your apprentice just got eaten by a fox.”

Whirling around, Fireheart saw Sandpaw padding towards him, pointed expression on her face. She stopped as he saw her, staring at him for a moment before her ears fell flat against her head.

“She wasn’t, was she?” Sandpaw asked.

“No!” Fireheart denied, the thought of anything happening to Cinderpaw making the fur on the back of his neck stand on end. “No, Cinderpaw’s totally fine!”

“Oh, good.” Meowed Sandpaw. “You just had this very... distressed look on your face and I thought for a moment that something bad had happened.”

Fireheart shook himself, disgruntled.

“I’m glad to hear you have so much faith in me as a mentor.” He remarked, remembering how prickly Sandpaw had been towards him during their apprenticeship. Under normal circumstances, he would have simply tried to avoid her, or let her make her remarks without retaliating. Today, however, the stress of it all was obviously getting to him. He winced at himself, and waited for the apprentice to either laugh at his foul temper, or respond in kind.

Sandpaw, however, didn’t laugh or even sneer. Instead, she looked contrite, gaze flicking down to her paws for a brief moment.

“So, why are you so stressed?” She asked.

Not expecting the earnest question, Fireheart blinked in surprise, but eventually tilted his head towards Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw – who were still talking eagerly to one another. Sandpaw stepped up to his side to see them properly; then shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, they’re talking. So what?” She asked.

He frowned at her.

She eyed him incredulously. “They’re talking. They’re _friends_. That’s what _friends_ do.” Her muzzle lifted into the air a little as she continued, her haughty attitude apparently returning as she continued to speak. “Considering how thick you and Greystripe and Ravenpaw all were, I figured you’d at least know how that works.”

“I know how friendship works!” Fireheart snapped. Sandpaw snarled at him, but then inhaled deeply and leant away from him, instead watching the two with a keen eye.

“So why does it bother you?” She asked.

Unsure as to when exactly Sandpaw had decided to care about him in any capacity, Fireheart hesitated to answer; but eventually, he couldn’t resist.

“Because I don’t know if I trust Brambleclaw.” He admitted. “He- I- I have a bad feeling.” He couldn’t tell Sandpaw that he was afraid of the son being as bad as the father; he didn’t want to explain his suspicions about Tigerclaw to Sandpaw of all cats, and there was every chance that she would go straight to Tigerclaw with such information anyway – to the rest of the clan, he remembered, Tigerclaw was still the loyal warrior and deputy that he made himself out to be.

Sandpaw’s response was a noncommittal huff.

“Well, hey, you don’t have to worry about your kit, at least.” She meowed. “Whatever you might be worried about, he and her are at least close. She’s not in danger.” A heartbeat – then she continued. “Or is the two of them being close what you’re worried about?”

“What?” Fireheart’s surprise seeped into his mew. What did Sandpaw mean?

Sandpaw, catching his eye, rolled her own before continuing. “I mean,” she explained, “well, Squirrelpaw told me that you and Tigerclaw don’t get along.”

Fireheart turned to Sandpaw in surprise.

“What?” He gasped. “What else did she tell you?”

Sandpaw stared at him as though he’d just turned into a badger. “Nothing specific.” She reassured him after a moment of hesitation. “Just that you don’t trust him, and that you have good reason to do so. Apparently.” This last word was laced with scepticism.

Fireheart nodded, cautiously. “I do.” For the most part, he still wasn’t sure what Sandpaw’s whole point was.

“So,” Sandpaw continued, “does it bother you that your daughter and his son are so close?”

“You mean, that they’re friends?” Fireheart began to think about the question – was it just the principle of his kit and Tigerclaw’s kit being friends that had him so bothered – but Sandpaw’s _mrrow_ of laughter cut off his thought before it could really begin.

“No, genius.” She pointed with her tail, and Fireheart looked at the pair again. He couldn’t see Brambleclaw’s face from the angle he and Sandpaw were standing at, but he could see his tail idly swishing from side to side, head tilting as he listened to Squirrelpaw talk. And though he was too far away to make out what Squirrelpaw was saying to him, her bushy tail was fluffed up and there was a spark in her eyes.

“I mean,” Sandpaw meowed almost in his ear, “that they look like they might end up as mates soon – assuming they aren’t already.”

“ _Mates_?!” Hissed Fireheart, forcing himself at the last minute to keep his voice low so that the whole clan didn’t suddenly ask him what he was on about. Sandpaw, for her part, shrugged.

“I’m not saying that it’s happened, or will happen.” She meowed. “That’s just how it looks to me. I could be wrong.”

“There’s no way they could be mates, that’s not possible!” Fireheart argued.

“Well, they don’t exactly look like they hate each other.” Came Sandpaw’s response. Fireheart began to peer desperately at Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw again, but Sandpaw reached over and cuffed his ear. Ignoring his indignant hiss, she ordered him: “Don’t stare. You don’t want to make yourself look obvious.” She eyed him, then sighed. “Personally, I don’t think you should worry. Surely, if they _are_ that close, it just means that she’s not in any danger from him?”

“Unless he’s putting up a charade.” Fireheart responded, gloomily, resisting the urge to add: “ _It’s what his father is doing_.”

Sandpaw scoffed. “That’s just ridiculous. I think that your instincts about Brambleclaw are your instincts as a father, wanting to make sure your kit’s okay. He probably isn’t a bad cat; _you_ just don’t like how friendly he is with your daughter.”

Was that what it was? It sounded, to Fireheart, a little absurd. The instincts of a parent? Surely, they wouldn’t cloud his judgement to that extent. And besides, the two of them? No, that was- no.

“Honestly, it’s more weird than anything else.” He muttered. He hadn’t really stopped to think about the fact that Tigerclaw’s son and his daughter were at least friends (and possibly even, as Sandpaw had suggested, something more) – he’d known, of course, that that was the case, but mostly he’d just been suspicious of Brambleclaw’s true nature and intentions. The fact that he’d been chasing Squirrelpaw across the camp when he’d first seen them interact hadn’t helped, in that regard, and Brambleclaw just looked so similar to his father…

But now, he was considering the idea that he may have been wrong. That the two really _were_ friends, at least. It was… strange. And it left him with just more questions. In what kind of future would his kit and Tigerclaw’s kit end up as friends?

“If it’s any consolation, maybe they _aren’t_ that close. I was just wondering if that could be a reason why you didn’t like seeing the two of them together. You remember when Squirrelpaw told everyone about her journey?” Sandpaw interrupted his musings with her question. Wordlessly, he shook his head – he’d been asleep. She frowned. “Well, from the sounds of it – those two have been through a lot together. They were the only cats from ThunderClan to go on the prophecy’s journey. And now, it’s just the two of them in the future, as far as we know. In some ways, it’s obvious that they’d stick together.”

Fireheart found himself nodding at Sandpaw’s logic. Yes, that all made sense.

Sandpaw, as if to conclude, shrugged.

“Just relax.” She told him. “Squirrelpaw’s hyperactive and annoying, sure, but I don’t think she’s an idiot. Maybe you should trust her judgement.”

Fireheart squinted at her – still wondering where exactly all this advice was coming from. Was this the same Sandpaw who had gone out of her way to try and make his apprenticeship in ThunderClan miserable? Who’d hated him on sight?

“Why do you sound like her parent, all of a sudden?” He asked.

Sandpaw’s face contorted in disgust. “Ew.”

 _My thoughts exactly_ , thought Fireheart to himself.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I’ll… keep that in mind.” Though he was still wholly confused by the interaction, he did his best to remain cordial. Sandpaw seemed to be making… an effort, at least, to be nice. It was only fair that he return the favour.

“Sounds good.” Sandpaw told him. “Just don’t smother your kit, okay?”

“I’m surprised you’re bothered.” Fireheart responded. “I mean, considering you didn’t want to look after her when she first arrived at camp.”

“That’s right, I didn’t.” Sandpaw meowed, suddenly no longer meeting his eyes.

Fireheart peered at her. “Don’t tell me.” He meowed. “You don’t actually hate her?”

Sandpaw didn’t answer. For some reason, Fireheart couldn’t help but feel pleased at this revelation. “I, uh, didn’t figure that the two of you would get along.” He admitted.

“Eh.” Sandpaw harrumphed. “She’s not so bad, once you get used to all the chattering.”

“So, she’s grown on you?”

“Like mould.”

Fireheart stifled a laugh, in spite of himself. Across the camp, Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw nodded at each other. They _were_ incredibly synchronised, Fireheart had to admit. And it was true that Squirrelpaw, at least, seemed to really trust Brambleclaw and care about him, if the way she’d run from the camp to find him had been any indication. But still…

No, no. Fireheart shook his head. It wasn’t even that it was such a farfetched concept – he’d just dealt with enough worldshaking revelations for a long time. He didn’t fancy himself ready for another one.

Speaking of revelations…

Waving with his tail to Sandpaw (who nodded coolly), Fireheart began to make his way across the camp, towards his daughter. It was time to get to the bottom of the information he’d already been given.

How had he become “Firestar”?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart: what are you, Squirrelpaw's mum or something?  
> Sandpaw: *disgruntled cat noises*
> 
> (Also, I haven't mentioned it before, but I have a tumblr! You can find me at https://haroldosaur.tumblr.com/ if you want to chat to me further about the fic, or WC in general ^_^)


	21. BEHIND THE SCENES (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan Van Ness voice: "...So here's the thing..."
> 
> IN SHORT: I have a project I'm working on for NaNoWriMo (National Novel-Writing Month), and it's not this. So while I've made, like, a BIT of progress, it's fair to say that it may be a little while before the next chapter is uploaded. D:
> 
> So, as compensation, I've grabbed a bunch of screenshots from discord from when I first thought of and planned out this fanfiction! (Featuring the author of Ouroboros as my sounding board xD).
> 
> So, uh, here you go! :3

First of all, there came initial conception. Where the plot bunny just. absolutely wormed its way into my little grey cells. (And the context is discussion of "Satan"'s fic,  _Ouroboros_ , which is why credit to them is at the bottom of this fic. Their story didn't inspire mine, perse, but if they hadn't spent so much time talking at me about their own warrior cats time-travel fic, I wouldn't have had the idea for mine. So thanks ;D)

And then things began to... develop.

There were raw ideas...

There was hashing out potential plot details...

And there was irony.

"I don't think I'm going to write anything" he says. Oh, past Harold. So young. So naive.

Anyways - from there, everything else sort of fell into place.

My original working title for the fic was - well, it wasn't even a working title, it was just what I was calling it in my head, but whatever - was "Time Travelling Squirrelpaw". Because hey, it's not like that's inaccurate.

Sometimes, when figuring stuff out, I'd use actually coherent sentences and thoughts to convey what I had planned for what was quickly becoming a full-blown fic.

I also expressed a lot of my plotting and ideas through memes.

And sometimes, I combined both!

Finally, the time came to actually naming the dang thing...

And by that point, I was hashing out some plot details that'll look very familiar.

The conversations that you may see in the fic did not start off.... very complexly written, in their raw forms. xD (But hey, _eso si que es._ )

But I was having so many!! Ideas!! I just HAD to write it.

And thus, "Simpler Times" was born! More or less. xD

And that's about as much as I can reveal right now - a lot more conversation has been had, but it gets a bit,,,, spoiler-y. :P I'll save that for another time. :3

 

 **ALSO BONUS** : Sandpaw, and my initial thoughts on how the reveal of her being Squirrelpaw's mum might have gone down:

 

 

 

 

And, uh, yeah, that's all I got

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The file name for the document I have Simpler Times stored on is titled, and I quote, "I cannae fucking believe I'm doing this in the year of our lord 2019".
> 
> Needless to say, I didn't see this coming.
> 
> That being said, I've been overwhelmed by all the support this fic has received so far! I have every intention of writing more when I can, and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as they've enjoyed what's already been posted!! ^_^


	22. The one where Fireheart experiences information overload

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still swarmed with things to do, and I'm beginning to suspect that it'll never not be that way. BUT NaNoWriMo is over, the holidays have given me some breathing room, and I'm back with a chapter of decent length for y'all :3
> 
> Anyways, this one was a fun one conceptually. Honestly, to begin with my temptation was to skip this chapter, and just do the thing where it's like "ah, now this character has been caught up", and kind of breeze over the explanation of the past. But then, I remembered that this is basically WHY I wrote Simpler Times in the first place! (At least, that, and there being no other fics like it that I could find.) Characters reacting to the future is some of the best parts of time-travel fic! So... he ya go. xDDD

**21**

“The first thing you need to know,” meowed Brambleclaw lowly, “is that you and Ravenpaw were – _are_ – right. Tigerclaw did kill Redtail.”

The three of them – Fireheart, Brambleclaw, and Squirrelpaw – were out of the camp. The future cats had been unwilling to discuss anything with him in the camp, and Squirrelpaw had convinced them that the best course of action was to sneak out.

(Privately, Fireheart couldn’t help but wonder how she’d grown up so… so _mischievous_. Maybe it was her as-yet-unidentified mother. Certainly, he couldn’t really see himself providing that kind of example, surely?)

When he’d approached them, asking them in no uncertain terms how he’d become Fire _star_ in the future, they’d been reluctant to talk, although it had been clear from their meaningful glances towards one another that they’d been considering it. After a moment’s deliberation, Squirrelpaw had pulled Brambleclaw aside, and started whispering to him just out of Fireheart’s earshot. Brambleclaw had whispered back, and the two had ended up in a heated yet murmured conversation that Fireheart had only managed to catch snippets of. Something about “what if we can’t change things after all”, and he could have sworn that he’d heard them mention the moonstone as well. Eventually, they’d turned back to him.

“You want to know about what happens in the future?” Brambleclaw had asked? His voice had had the same guttural rumble to it as Tigerclaw, and Fireheart had had to consciously remind himself that the two were, in fact, different cats; his instincts had insisted that he couldn’t trust this cat, but he’d forced himself to remain calm.

“I do.” He’d responded, trying to not let his voice shake in anticipation. There had been something… foreboding in the way Brambleclaw had asked the question. What was so bad about the future? What was there to fear?

He was, he supposed, finding out now.

“He really did.” Fireheart muttered in response, filled with relief and trepidation mixed into a single wave of emotion. On the plus side, the doubts that had been beginning to surface about his convictions were no more – here, now, was proof that Tigerclaw had done what Ravenpaw had said he’d done – but on the minus side, this confirmation was also a worrying one. If Tigerclaw really could murder the deputy of his clan of the sake of his own ambition, what else could he do? He shuddered at the thought.

Brambleclaw nodded, solemnly.

“The deputyship…” he was clearly considering the weight of his words before he said them. “It wasn’t enough for him.”

Fireheart felt as though his blood was turning to ice under his pelt. “What are you saying?” He asked in a panic. “Are you saying that he… that he tried to kill Bluestar?”

Instead of answering “yes” or “no”, Brambleclaw opened and closed his mouth helplessly, his eyes shining with unspoken emotion. Squirrelpaw, who was perched between the two of them, was also staring at Brambleclaw. Concern was apparent within her gaze.

“…He didn’t try directly for a while.” Eventually replied Brambleclaw. “First, he set a trap for her – getting a warrior to summon her to the Thunderpath, where he’d arranged it so that when she’d arrive, she’d get hit by a monster.”

“ _No_.” Fireheart hissed in horror. “No, I- that wouldn’t work! She still has multiple lives!” _Only one extra_ , he remembered with an uncomfortable jolt, recalling how Bluestar had admitted the truth to him after the rat attack: how the life she’d lost had been not her fifth, but her seventh. But Brambleclaw shook his head.

“I think by that point, she was on her last life.” He admitted. Stunned, Fireheart almost forgot how to speak.

“What did… how did she… how?” He spluttered.

“I don’t know.” Admitted Brambleclaw. “I don’t… maybe it was an illness? I don’t remember…”

 _That’d make sense_ , Fireheart had to admit to himself – it gave Bluestar more of an opportunity to be vague about how many life she had left. And with Bluestar’s penultimate life whittled down in such a manner…

“But did it work?” He asked. “You said that Tigerclaw tried that _first_ …”

Brambleclaw nodded. “It didn’t work.” He revealed. “I mean – Bluestar wasn’t the one caught in the trap.”

Fireheart tilted his head. Something wasn’t right. “Then… who was?” He asked.

Brambleclaw hesitantly met his eyes, blinking and staring at the ground after only a couple of moments. He shuffled his paws nervously.

“Cinderpaw.”

The ground felt as though it was falling away from under Fireheart’s feet. Almost automatically, he looked down at his paws. Despair wrung through him at the thought of his young apprentice being caught in Tigerclaw’s trap, killed on the Thunderpath. His anguish suddenly turned to anger, and his suddenly unsheathed claws tore into the dirt under him as he kept staring, deaf to the voices that were trying to reach him.

“…heart. Fireheart!” He eventually heard Squirrelpaw wail. “Father!”

He looked up at her. Her eyes were wide.

“I…” He tried to meow, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Cinderpaw doesn’t die.” Brambleclaw interjected suddenly, a tremor in his voice. “She- it’s close, and she’s too badly hurt to fully recover, but she doesn’t die.”

 _She doesn’t die_. Fireheart breathed a sigh, letting the news and the conflicting emotions wash over him. Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw both seemed to hang back, letting him process instead of trying to talk to him again, and he felt a wave of gratitude towards both of them.

Eventually, he recovered his wits enough to ask about something.

“You said that she was hurt too badly to recover.” He addressed Brambleclaw directly. “What does that mean?”

“It means that she never became a warrior.” Brambleclaw revealed, unflinching even as his eyes (as amber as his father’s) reflected a deeper sorrow then what he was otherwise demonstrating. “One of her legs was crippled by the trap, and so it was decided that she would never be able to become a full warrior; ultimately, she ended up replacing Yellowfang as ThunderClan’s medicine cat.”

“…I see.” The news, in some ways, felt so monumental, but in others, was shocking in the way that a tragedy happening to a stranger is shocking. After all, Cinderpaw had only been his apprentice for a day; time had yet to develop a strong bond between them as mentor and apprentice. And yet, already, the thought of anything happing to her was gut-wrenching. Fireheart grit his teeth at the prospect – imagining the young cat who he’d just seen, so full of life, hurt beyond repair.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Squirrelpaw watching him with a worried green gaze. He forced himself to calm down. This, after all, hadn’t happened yet. This was just their experience of the future. For now, at least, all was still well.

“Keep going.” He managed to meow. “What does he- What does Tigerclaw do after that?”

Brambleclaw kept grimacing.

“He conspired with Brokenstar.” He explained. “He brought a group of rogues to the camp, and tried to kill Bluestar with his own claws.”

Fireheart lashed his tail against the dirt in frustration. _That fox-hearted_ -! Even he could barely have imagined that Tigerclaw would stoop so low as to try and kill his own leader, but the thought of him trying to flat-out murder Bluestar was shocking.

“Did he succeed?” He almost heard himself ask, as though he were a spectator of the conversation and not a participant.

“No.” Brambleclaw rumbled. “You stopped him.”

“I-” For definitely not the first time, words failed Fireheart. He tried to imagine himself in a scenario like that: managing to overpower Tigerclaw, stopping him from killing Bluestar. Winning. Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t manage it. “I did?” He asked, too stunned for a more strident denial.

Brambleclaw nodded. “You fought him to a standstill – after that, I think Bluestar and someone else were able to restrain him until after the battle was over.”

“Great StarClan.” Fireheart breathed.

“How’d he even manage that?” To his surprise, Squirrelpaw spoke up, sounding as though she didn’t know the full story either. “Like, my father may be an excellent fighter, but Tigerclaw’s as big as…” She motioned helplessly with a paw. “Well, as you!” She eventually indicated to Brambleclaw – who rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know the details; I was only a kit.” He explained. “I just know that that’s what happened.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know how much of that I believe.” Fireheart admitted. It wasn’t that he _wanted_ Brambleclaw to be wrong, it was just… “This all sounds very…”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Perhaps it sounds far-fetched to you.” He meowed. “But you’re young. You’re only just a warrior. Maybe you’re not that cat now, but over the course of time… that’s who you become.”

“Why do you sound like such an elder?” Squirrelpaw interrupted, before Fireheart could even say anything. ““Aha, look at me. My name is Brambleclaw. I know things. I’m an old, old warrior.”

“Comparatively, I am!” Brambleclaw protested indignantly. “Anyway, you’re still an apprentice, so you don’t even get to talk.”

Squirrelpaw sighed and shook her head dramatically. “I journeyed with you and the other prophecy cats for _moons_ , Brambleclaw. I’m as much a warrior as the rest of you – in spirit, even if not technically.”

Brambleclaw’s sigh sounded, to Fireheart, like the sigh of some cat who’d had a conversation many times already, and wasn’t keen on the idea of repeating it.

“To get back on track,” he meowed forcefully, “yes. Fireheart defeated Tigerclaw, and exposed his plan to all of ThunderClan. After that, Bluestar exiled Tigerclaw from ThunderClan altogether.”

“But then what?” Asked Fireheart. “That doesn’t explain how I become leader, for one thing.”

“Bluestar…” Brambleclaw looked troubled as he kept speaking. “She was shaken, I think, by Tigerclaw’s betrayal. I don’t know all of the details. But when she had to pick a new deputy… she picked you.”

“Me?” Repeated Fireheart, in astonishment. He’d supposed that it would have happened at some point, otherwise how would he have become leader? But from the sound of it, his appointment as deputy wouldn’t happen very far in the future at all.

“It makes sense, father, if you think about it.” That was Squirrelpaw, staring at him attentively. “After all, you were the cat who stopped Tigerclaw’s initial nefarious plot in its tracks. It only makes sense that you’d be the new deputy!”

“Squirrelpaw, Bluestar was severely stressed at the time and… from what I’ve heard, she wasn’t in her right mind.” Brambleclaw replied, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He glanced at Fireheart for a telling moment. “Not that your father was the wrong cat for the job, obviously, but it was unorthodox at the time. Apparently some cats weren’t too happy with it.”

“Darkstripe, probably.” Agreed Fireheart. “I can only imagine how little he enjoyed me becoming deputy.” The thought of the elder cat’s disdain almost buoyed Fireheart, a little. Squirrelpaw, to his side, slashed at the air with suddenly-unsheathed claws.

“That’s what that mangy furball gets!” She hissed.

Brambleclaw’s whiskers twitched in amusement, although he gave no other sign of levity.

“That’s what the mangy furball gets.” He affirmed, sounding very final about the whole matter.

Suppressing his own personal satisfaction at the though of Darkstripe being unhappy with how everything turned out, a thought suddenly occurred to Fireheart. “Wait.” He meowed. “None of Tigerclaw’s allies followed him into exile?”

Squirrelpaw blinked. “ _Allies_? I thought he only had Darkstripe on his side.” She revealed. Fireheart blanched. If that were the case – if that was how the future remembered it – then what happened to Dustpaw and Longtail? As far as he was aware, they were both supporters of Tigerclaw. But then, he considered, it wasn’t that they were pro-Tigerclaw as much as it was that they were just against _him_. There was, Fireheart realised, a difference. Even if it didn’t mean much to him practically.

“Technically, it is only Darkstripe.” Brambleclaw explained. “But Longtail and Dustpaw both… well, they weren’t his lackeys to the same extent that Darkstripe was. Is.” He shook his head in distaste. “This time-travel is confusing.”

Squirrelpaw snorted. “Tell me about it.” She remarked. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I arrived at camp to see my father so young?” She gestured at Fireheart with a paw. “Look at him, Brambleclaw! He’s practically a kit!”

Fireheart’s fur ruffled in spite of himself. “Excuse me?” He meowed. Squirrelpaw turned to him with big eyes.

“Not literally, father.” She mewed in a tone that sounded suspiciously like she was trying to sound innocent – with a strange jolt, Fireheart realised that he’d seen the kits in the nursery do the same thing to their parents a couple of times in attempts to get out of trouble. It was a stark reminder that he was a parent now. And speaking of _practically a kit_ … he shook his head, exhaling. How could his daughter be so mature and so… so immature at the same time?

“It’s just a point of comparison, you see.” Continued Squirrelpaw, further making out her excuses. “Because I was so unprepared to see you as young as you are now, when in my time you’re so not-young.”

“Alright, stop it.” Brambleclaw eyed her. “Speaking of cats practically being kits…”

Predictably, Squirrelpaw bristled at the jibe as though she had just spoken the same way to her father only a few moments ago. “Hey!” She snapped. “We both know that I’m almost a warrior, you can’t deny that. If things were happening normally, I’d probably have had my assessment already.”

“I doubt it.” Meowed Brambleclaw lightly, before raising his voice to a normal volume. “Anyway, when are you going to get over your hangup about your rank?”

“When you get over yours!” Squirrelpaw retorted. “It’s always, “oh, Squirrelpaw, I’m the warrior and you’re not, you’re practically a kit, you should listen to me always and all the time”. You know, you’re not going to be able to boss me around forever! When I really _do_ get my warrior name, you won’t even outrank me anymore.”

“You know there’s such a thing as a senior warrior, right?” Brambleclaw asked dryly. Feeling very much as though he’d been forgotten, somewhat, Fireheart stayed silent as the two continued to bicker.

“We’re getting off-topic.” Continued Brambleclaw, but Squirrelpaw lashed her tail with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“No, let’s continue.” She meowed eagerly. “It’s not like every time I’d brought something up, I’ve been right, right? I came on the journey with you, and without me, it may have gone totally differently. And by “totally differently”, I mean horribly wrong.”

“Without you…” Brambleclaw sighed. “Well, without you, my ears would have been spared an entire clan’s worth of chatter, that’s for certain.”

Squirrelpaw twitched.

“But okay.” Admitted Brambleclaw, suddenly, with the air of a cat who had suddenly grown tired of the conversation. “If I said that half of the reason why you’re so annoying is because you’re always right, would you let me get on with telling Fireheart about the future? You know, the thing we have to do that’s actually important, here?”

Squirrelpaw just stared. “You really think I’m always right?” She asked.

Brambleclaw shrugged his broad shoulders awkwardly. “I mean, no cat’s always right. But yes, more often than not, you have the right idea. Even if you’re insufferable about it. I mean-” He seemed to be stumbling over his words, now. “Look, if I admit it, will you just keep at least a bit more quiet? This is going to take long enough as it is, and we want to get back to camp before some cat misses us. It’s important.”

Even though it didn’t sound like much of a compliment to Fireheart, Squirrelpaw beamed and sat back down, apparently with nothing else to say.

“Right.” Droned Brambleclaw, before turning back to Fireheart as if nothing had happened. “So, where were we?”

Fireheart didn’t answer immediately – he was lost in thought. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just trespassed on a small moment of privacy, and not for the first time, he began to wonder just how close the bond was between his daughter and Tigerclaw’s son. What if Sandpaw was right about them, and how they felt towards one another?

Brambleclaw speaking up again, however, had Fireheart shaking his head. He could worry about all that later. For now, he still needed to hear all about what the future held for him.

“Tigerclaw was out of ThunderClan, and with minimal support.” Fireheart intoned, slowly. “Or am I wrong?”

Brambleclaw nodded. “No, that’s how it was.” He confirmed. “Darkstripe, Longtail, and Dustpaw all refused to join him in exile – though, if I remember the story right, they all had differing reasons for doing so.”

“Differing reasons…?” Fireheart echoed, curiously tilting his head a little. To the side, he saw Squirrelpaw making the exact same curious gesture; the similarity warmed his hard.

“Darkstripe essentially remained loyal to Tigerclaw, even after he left ThunderClan.” Brambleclaw’s brow darkened as he elaborated, lost in some kind of memory. “When me and my sister grew up, he would arrange for us to meet with our father, and multiple times came close to smuggling us out of the camp altogether.”

“Out of the- you have a sister?” Fireheart’s head whirled as he tried to keep ahold of all this new information.

“Yeah!” Squirrelpaw beamed. “Tawnypelt. She’s actually alright once you get to know her, even if she _does_ live in ShadowClan.”

Fireheart blinked, and then opened his mouth.

“You want to know why my sister is in ShadowClan, even though our parents were ThunderClan?” Brambleclaw guessed. Fireheart closed his mouth – Brambleclaw nodded.

“I’ll get there.” He assured him. “Anyway, meanwhile, Longtail rejected Tigerclaw because of- well, I’m not entirely sure myself. Depending on who you ask, it was either loyalty to ThunderClan, or just cowardice.”

“Probably both.” Interjected Squirrelpaw. Brambleclaw stared at her.

“Could you,” he asked, “not add on to every single thing that I say?”

“But you’re not telling him everything!” Squirrelpaw protested. This was news to Fireheart, who felt sure that he was listening to the longest story that any cat had ever told him.

“I’m telling him everything that could be important.” Brambleclaw protested. “That ought to be enough; he doesn’t need to know _everything_. Besides, I was still young when all this was happening, so it’s not like I remember it all in great detail, and I don’t want to get something wrong.”

“Aha, so you _can_ admit when you’re wrong!” Squirrelpaw crowed as though she’d unearthed some long-lost secret. “Colour me surprised.”

“Squirrelpaw…” Brambleclaw meowed in a long-suffering tone. Squirrelpaw sat up straighter.

“Okay.” She meowed. “Okay, shutting up.”

“…Thanks.” Muttered Brambleclaw, before turning his attention back onto Fireheart once again. Even _Fireheart_ could feel himself getting a little fatigued with the process now. (At least, he was feeling some fatigue in whatever part of him that WASN’T captivated by these stories about the future, and wondering how all that these cats were saying could possibly be true.)

“So.” He said. “Darkstripe was Tigerclaw’s inside cat, Longtail was a coward, and Dustpaw rejected him outright.”

“He did?” Fireheart asked, surprised at the idea. He supposed it wasn’t unreasonable, seeing that Tigerclaw’s crimes would have supposedly been aired to all of ThunderClan at that point, but the idea of Dustpaw of all cats taking a stand against Tigerclaw was a surreal one to him. Brambleclaw however, nodded in confirmation.

“Redtail was his first mentor.” He said, gravely. “The moment he heard the truth about Redtail’s death, Tigerclaw lost any influence he may have had over him.”

Fireheart realised with a jolt that Brambleclaw was right – Redtail _had_ been Dustpaw’s mentor, initially. Perhaps, he realised as he thought, that would even explain why Dustpaw’s attitude towards him had been so harsh when he’d first joined the clan. He’d been grieving the death of his mentor! Fireheart felt his heart go out to the prickly cat, in spite of himself. It must have been difficult.

“Well, after that, there was… well, there wasn’t _peace_.” Brambleclaw sighed. “Tigerclaw kept using what remained of his band of rogues to launch attacks on ThunderClan, and more than one cat died at claws. And then… then, there was the fire.” His voice grew dark.

Fireheart glanced over to Squirrelpaw. She was watching Brambleclaw intently.

“The fire?” He asked, wearily.

Brambleclaw sucked in a breath. “Not long after you became deputy of ThunderClan,” he meowed shakily, “and while I was still a kit, the forest caught fire. And it burned…” He began to stare off into space, looking at neither Fireheart nor Squirrelpaw directly. Instead, it was as though he was seeing something no longer happening; reaching into the recesses of memory to relive the event. “The whole camp, and so much of the forest around it, was destroyed. Prey disappeared, plants were burned away, and you couldn’t get the scent of ash and smoke out of your nose for all the prey left in the forest.” He pawed at his nose, as though he his sense of smell was being transported back in time as well. “We stayed with RiverClan.” He explained. “Our camp was completely destroyed – they offered us shelter for… I can’t remember how long. I don’t think it was more than a couple of days. But we had to accept, because our own camp had been destroyed.”

“Why would RiverClan offer shelter to us?” Fireheart asked. It seemed especially unlikely now, considering what had happened at the gorge with Whiteclaw. Perhaps RiverClan had forgiven ThunderClan by that point? It had to be a reason, but as Fireheart remembered the look on Leopardfur’s face after the accident, he had to admit to himself that he couldn’t see such forgiveness occurring, at least on her part, any time soon.

Brambleclaw shook his head. “I can’t say for sure.” He admitted. “I don’t remember. But at that point in time, Crookedstar was still the leader of RiverClan; from the way he’s spoken of in my time, he sounds to have been an honourable cat. Perhaps it was not that RiverClan _wanted_ to help us so much as they were bound by honour and the warrior code.”

“Well, thank StarClan for those, then.” Fireheart remarked.

“Thank StarClan for those.” Agreed Brambleclaw, darkly.

Fireheart turned to Squirrelpaw, and was surprised to see her staring and Brambleclaw with wide eyes.

“I figured you would have known about all this.” He observed. She blinked dazedly at him, before shaking her head and rearing up as though she were trying to let the comment slide off her back like water.

“Oh, I _knew_.” She assured him. “Don’t worry about that. I said how the camp looked different to how I remembered it when I first got here, remember?”

She had, Fireheart realised, remembering the remark that had somewhat baffled him at the time. At least he knew the context now.

“I just…” Squirrelpaw continued, bending her head down. “I haven’t heard the story in such detail before, I’ll admit that.”

Brambleclaw, meanwhile, looked as though he was still shaken, but continued to talk before Fireheart or Squirrelpaw could stop him.

“We…” He sighed. “We lost cats, as well. Patchpelt and Halftail. And…” He trailed off, gritting his teeth together. “…and Yellowfang.” He said the last name so quietly that Fireheart almost didn’t hear it – but he did, and he almost felt like he could feel a swooping sensation in his chest as his heart dropped.

“Yellowfang died?” He meowed, very softly. Mind whirring at the news. Though he’d only known her for so long, he’d come to enjoy her presence in the medicine den, even if he still missed Spottedleaf. And, ironically enough, she’d been one of his first real friends in ThunderClan while he’d been an apprentice. There had been Greystripe and Ravenpaw, obviously, but a lot of the cats that had been friendly to him – such as Bluestar or Lionheart – had always been more cordial, while Yellowfang had paid no heed to his age and had casually spat at him regardless. It had been a rocky road, but by this point, he would say that they were very much close friends. The idea of her… gone…

He stared at the ground below his paws in a daze, before making an effort to almost “wake” himself and looked back up – right into Brambleclaw’s distraught face. The cat before him choked out a cry, and then said:

“It’s my fault.”

Squirrelpaw let out a soft gasp.

“I was a kit, and I was stupid, and I was… I was up a tree.” Explained Brambleclaw. “And if you – your future self – if you hadn’t stopped to help me, you would have been able to help Yellowfang get Patchpelt out of the camp before the entrance have been blocked. And maybe… maybe they’d have both survived.”

Fireheart wasn’t sure what to think. His future self… had sacrificed Yellowfang to save Tigerclaw’s son? From a certain point of view, it seemed unbelievable. And yet, here was the proof, standing right in front of him – wracked with guilt. He realised everything that was happening all of a sudden.

“Well- I-” He began, before Squirrelpaw darted forwards.

“Brambleclaw, no, you mustn’t say that!” She meowed harshly. “It _couldn’t_ have been your fault, you didn’t know any better!”

Brambleclaw opened his mouth helplessly, but didn’t say anything else. Fireheart wondered, worriedly, what words weren’t coming out of his mouth.

“Squirrelpaw’s right.” He forced himself to say. “Brambleclaw, if I…” He trailed off. What could he say? He couldn’t see himself making that same choice at this point in time, although that was probably more due to his affection for Yellowfang than anything else. But even so…

 _Even so_ , he reminded himself, _the warrior code speaks of the importance of not just strength in battle, but of honour and nobility. I can’t say for sure how I would have felt in that moment, but it wouldn’t have been right for me to leave him behind, if he needed help_. He spared a glance to Brambleclaw, who was leaning on Squirrelpaw with despair still in his eyes. _Even if he is Tigerclaw’s son._

“Brambleclaw, if that really is what happened in the future, then wouldn’t it have been my choice to save you instead of helping Yellowfang.” Fireheart meowed. “Whether or not you think it was a lapse in judgement or not, it was _my_ judgement – or, ah, at least, my future self’s judgement. So you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah!” Squirrelpaw was quick to support Fireheart, nodding furiously. “Plus, from what I know about Yellowfang, because we’ve been hanging out a lot in the medicine den because I have to be there, but from what I know about her, she’d be _so_ annoyed if Fireheart had helped her over you.”

Brambleclaw sighed raggedly. “That sounds more like Yellowfang having low self-esteem than anything else.”

Fireheart’s ear twitched. The irony of the statement was not lost on him, even if it was apparently lost on Brambleclaw himself. Did this cat really think that he didn’t deserve to live over another cat? Not that that was altogether shocking by itself, but the fact that this was Tigerclaw’s son saying this just further put paid to Fireheart’s preconceptions of him. He’d expected a son of Tigerclaw to be as self-assured and lofty as his father, and yet here Brambleclaw was, almost the complete opposite in that regard.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Well…” He hesitated, trying to think of what else to say. The idea came to him: _that is in the past_. But of course, because of Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw’s unique situation, it technically wasn’t in the past after all. From his perspective, it was still to happen. And if that were the case…

“Do you think,” Fireheart asked slowly, “that I could save both you _and_ Yellowfang, when the fire comes?”

Squirrelpaw just looked at him in surprise, but even in his state of emotional turmoil, Brambleclaw became thoughtful.

“…She was saving Patchpelt.” He said. “Him and Halftail stayed in the came for too long. So, if you made sure, straight away, that all the elders were out of the camp, and that I didn’t climb that tree in the meantime… maybe.” He shrugged. “It’ll be difficult to say for sure, in the heat of the moment. It was… it was a very, very, chaotic moment. But you have a chance.”

“But Brambleclaw!” Squirrelpaw spoke up. “We don’t know-!” She cut herself off, starting and looking around guiltily as though she’d just caught herself misbehaving. But Brambleclaw blinked slowly before his eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re right.” He gasped. “No, of course.” He then turned back to Fireheart. “We’ll… ah…” He trailed off, lashing his tail against the ground. “Never mind.” He eventually finished.

Fireheart tried to speak up – what had they been referring to? What had Brambleclaw been about to say? – but Brambleclaw had already turned his intense amber eyes back onto Fireheart, and words failed him.

“We should continue.” He meowed. “There’s still a lot more to tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brambleclaw: "Yeh I think Yellowfang had self-esteem issues"  
> Fireheart, who's known this guy for maybe a few days: "Look who's fuckin' talking"

**Author's Note:**

> So my friend @smug_albatross was talking all about their plan for a warrior cats time-travel AU (it's called "Ouroboros", and you can find it here (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18523150/chapters/43900102)!) on our shared discord server, and they infected me with their enthusiasm to the point where when I came up with my OWN time-travel-based warrior cats AU, I ended up writing it down.
> 
> So, basically, this is all their fault. :P


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